Misconceptions and Fresh Chances
by Jazz2305
Summary: Player Edward finds his head turned when Bella returns to Forks, but she is no blushing innocent and is not easily distracted. Could the player of Forks High have met his match? All human, OOC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I own nothing, all praise Stephenie Meyer the goddess of all. Edward Cullen, however, does own me. And Jasper has a timeshare.**

**To be clear - I REALLY REALLY do not condone drug use, smoking or underage drinking in any form. Edward and Jasper made me do it, blame them. If you have a problems with any of these things then PLEASE STOP READING NOW.**

**DOUBLE WARNING: if you don't like reading fics with alcohol, drugs and underage sex then remove yourself to a more fluffy climate. You have been warned. For those of your still game...I hope I don't disappoint ;)**

**Final note - I'm English, so my spelling is mostly leaning that way. If the 'z's for 's's get too much, I apologise.**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**EPOV**

Jasper leaned forward, flicking the Zippo in a practiced motion as his lit the joint in my hand alight. I leaned back on the wall beside his house, bracing my arm against the stone as I pulled the sweet, heady smoke into my lungs.

"New girl's arriving today."

I grunted, unexcited. The new shiny toy of Forks was bound to be the next level in boredom. No doubt half the town would be giddy over the possibility of new tail, but the novelty had long worn off for me. Fuck, I couldn't wait to escape this hell hole and move to Seattle.

Jasper took a deep draw, eyes narrowed against the thick smoke. "Police chief's daughter. She went to elementary here, now she's back."

My interest prickled. "Chief Swan's kid?"

Jasper nodded.

I stole the joint from him and took another drag. "Bella, right?"

Jasper just shrugged, uninterested.

Bella Swan. I let my mind wander over her as I idly drew on the joint. The last memory I had of her was when she threw my cake into the grass at my eighth birthday party and told me not to be such a 'poopy face' after I had pushed her into the dirt. I smirked, recalling how I always loved pushing her into the mud.

But, for now I kept my tone neutral. "So how's she looking?"

Jasper just shrugged again, meriting a snort from me. Ever since my sister Alice had snared him he'd turned from smooth-rolling wingman into pussy-wipped doormat. If it was anyone other than my sister I'd have dragged him to the peepers to get laid by now.

"Whatever, they're all the same anyways." They always were.

The dawn chorus interrupted us, a blissful chirping that in other circumstances would have been peaceful, but right now all it did was exacerbate the hangover from the night before. I flinched and snatched the joint back from Jasper, relishing the buzz.

Jasper eventually spoke. "So, did you hook up with Mallory again last night?"

I merely smirked and rolled my eyes. "A gentleman never tells." Even though Lauren was certainly no lady, I still had my rules.

Jasper snorted at that, knowing I was definitely no gentleman. Yet I kept my conquests private, always refusing to divulge even in the testosterone-fueled high of the locker room. Part of it was the lingering words of Esme that privacy is the last bastion of good manners, but the main motivation is that I get more tail when secrecy is guaranteed.

I pinched the roach between my fingers, inhaling deeply, speaking gruffly with the smoke still percolating in my lungs, "So where's your pixie bitch this morning?"

Jasper lashed out instantly, the thump to my chest making me choke on the smoke and see spots behind my eyes. _Fuck!_ I spluttered and coughed, managing to spit out, "What the fuck, Jazz?!"

He glowered at me. "First off, don't ever refer to my lady as a 'bitch'. Secondly, show more fucking respect to your sister."

I scoffed. "She might be your bitch, but she's not my sister." Not entirely true, but giving Alice a hard time had become force of habit now. Plus, I loved pissing everyone off.

Jasper glared at me, but didn't reply. He knew by now my reaction to the foster kids my step-father Carlisle had dragged into our home.

_Huh_. His home.

Motherfucker.

Literally.

I shuddered. The thought made me sick.

I took the last drag and tossed it into the bushes, Jasper burying it with the heel of his boot. Wordlessly, we climbed into his Camaro and he started the engine. He didn't push her into drive yet, and I waited patiently, knowing he had his piece to say. Eventually he coughed up.

"She might not be your sister by blood, but she's a good girl and deserves some fucking compassion, Cullen. Besides, your dad's adopting her and so you need to suck it up already."

I wanted to scoff, to smirk, to tell him he was a dip-shit and my soon-to-be-adopted sister was a whore, but I dug my fingernails into my thigh and resisted. Jasper waited a moment, tensed for my retaliation, then relaxed with a slight smile when I said nothing and drove towards school.

Senior year, Forks High. Whoop-de-fucking-da. Here we come...

**~ * ~**

It was only when we pulled into the empty parking lot that I checked my watch and realised how early we were. I glanced at Jasper, confused, then I saw the canary-yellow Porsche at the end of the lot and the dancing pixie running towards us. Rolling my eyes I waved Jasper out of the car, deliberately averting my eyes as he took the saliva aspect of fair trade to a whole new level. Ew.

I perched on the bonnet of Jasper's Camaro and lit a cigarette, ignoring the obnoxious slurping noises behind me. _Thanks, Jazz, way to go in encouraging accepting the foster-kid pixie-wench into the family._ I shuddered.

Fucking asshole.

The deep _chug hic chug_ of an engine seriously in need of some TLC dragged me from my reverie, screaming _Won't Get Fooled Again_ by The Who out of the windows. I watched as a beat-up Chevrolet truck pulled into the parking lot at the other end from where we parked, a rusty orange-red colour and decorated with far too many dents to claim as modern art. I laughed softly, wondering if Newton's parents had finally taken away his Suburban and stuck him in this monstrosity as punishment for his pathological perving on the freshman.

To my surprise a skinny brunette clambered from the cab. I tilted my head, drawing deeply from my cigarette. I'd never expected a chick to drive a truck like that - in all honesty, I was amazed she managed to climb down without breaking a nail. Sniggering to myself at that thought I watched with fascination as she skipped into the bed of her truck and narrowly missed splitting her head open on the edge, before she began rooting around in her bag.

I glanced behind me just long enough to see the tonsil twins were still fully occupied - _suppressing a shudder at the brief glimpse_ - then slid off the hood of the Camaro and watched the truck-loving brunette. She was fiddling in her backpack for something, her face hidden from view. I moved closer, wondering why I even cared but equally as determined to find out what this chick who listened to The Who was up to.

I heard a low _snick! snick! snick!_, the characteristic blaze of flint against metal, and saw the orange glow of a cigarette. I half-smiled, for once appreciating the bizarre solidarity that existed among smokers - the community bravado that came from our refusal to join the cowards who were afraid of cancer. I moved towards her, mentally preparing the first lines that would introduce me to her pants.

The ever-so-distinctive sweet scent stopped me dry about ten foot away from her. I inhaled the bewitching scent of marijuana and appraised Chevy-girl with a new eye. She'd noticed me by now, arching a brow at me challengingly while inhaling deeply on the spliff between her fingers.

As I watched, the harsh drumbeat of The Who gave way to _Tin Pan Alley_ by Steve Ray Vaughan. In all honesty the variety startled me, and I was vaguely aware of Jasper breaking his lip-lock with my sister at the other end of the parking lot to listen. He was always a sucker for Stevie Vaughan.

Cautiously now, I approached her. She was swinging her legs alongside the truckbed to the beat of _Tin Pan Alley_, her head dipping side-to-side with the beat, but I knew she was watching me.

She was exquisite.

I'd lived here my whole life with Emmett and my mom and - _urgh_ - the evil step-dad, Carlisle. I hated small-town life, hated the small-minded mentality it bred. I drank and smoked and fucked and avoided...and here this skinny mousy-haired chick was making me shift about like a choir boy at a strip joint.

She watched me openly, deep brown eyes scrutinising me like she could read every whisper crossing my brain. The music switched to _Cherry Pie_ by Warrant and I nearly jumped her right then.

_She's my cherry pie_

_Cool drink of water_

_Such a sweet surprise_

I approached her, plastering my characteristic panty-dropping smirk across my lips. It never failed. Yet she just stared at me, raised brow, crossing her legs and smoking her joint as if to say, _yeah, so what?_

I was astounded, literally lost. Flirting was a foreign concept to me - I'd never needed it. I was dimly aware that across the car park Jasper had torn his lips away from my sister and they were both staring at me, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

She blew out a smoke ring, never losing eye-contact. "So are you ever going to speak, or are you just going to drool over my truck and CD collection all day?"

I spluttered a little, hiding it as best I could, but I knew by her knowing smirk that she made me. I desperately gathered my cool to speak, but still couldn't find the words.

She stared at me for an endless minute, pinning me with her gaze. I felt naked, attacked, stripped by her knowing eyes and slapped down to the pavement. It was as if my tongue had been stolen and stapled to the spirit flag.

Eventually she spoke, low, melodic and throaty. "Want a drag?"

I just nodded, like a dumb freshman offered his first cigarette. She giggled to herself and skipped down from the truck, stumbling a little but catching herself on the lip of the truck with practiced ease. She handed the spliff to me and all she said was, "Go ahead."

So I did. It was dark and deep and harsh. It took everything I had not to cough across the asphalt like an amateur. She watched me mercilessly, waiting for me to trip up. When I succeeded without a single splutter and handed the bud back to her she had a look of grudging respect on her face.

"I must say I'm surprised. I wasn't expecting Forks boys to cope with Jack Herrers so easily. What's your name?"

I was distantly aware the situation had been somehow reversed. She should have stuttered her way through study hall, blushed when I approached her and then offered her name shyly while I twisted her in knots and sauntered away. Instead, I was gawping and blushing at her and wondering what colour underwear she wore.

I recovered quickly, and shot the crooked grin at her that had melted the virginity of half the girls in the district. I was Edward Fucking Cullen and would not be flustered, no matter how good this bitch's musical taste was.

I reached out and grasped her hand, applying just enough force to make her flutter. I saw her eyes dilate and smirked in satisfaction.

"I'm Edward Cullen, and I'm semi-speechless as I wonder where the hell you've been all my life."

She smiled and leaned towards me, smelling of summer flowers and strawberries and smoke. I swear I heard her let out a soft moan when she inhaled my scent, and I smirked with cocky confidence. This was a given. She'd be eating out of the palm of my hand by lunchtime.

"Hey Edward, I'm Bella," she murmured, brushing against me and sending a thrill down my whole body. Then she smirked evilly, answering my earlier question, "Where have I been your whole life? That's easy."

She chuckled, took a last drag on the joint and tossed it into the underbrush.

"Avoiding you. See you around, stud."

**~ * ~**

**A/N So....what do you think? I already have two stories on the go, but if I get enough interest I'll continue this one. Let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all, even me. And you. And your shoes.**

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews for the last chapter. I've decided to continue this story, so here goes....**

**CHAPTER TWO**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_"Hey Edward, I'm Bella," she murmured, brushing against me and sending a thrill down my whole body. Then she smirked evilly, answering my earlier question, "Where have I been your whole life? That's easy."_

_She chuckled, took a last drag on the joint and tossed it into the underbrush._

_"Avoiding you. See you around, stud."_

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

She sauntered off towards the office with a saucy little wave, smirking when she glanced back halfway and caught me gawking after her. I scowled and turned, refusing the nearly overwhelming temptation to follow her.

Bella Swan. Fuck, she'd sure as hell grown up - the little skinny kid with braces and scraped knees was no more. Well, the scraped knees bit was probably still true. Given that she'd nearly brained herself jumping in and out of the dinosaur she seemed to think was a vehicle, it seemed clear that she was still so clumsy it was almost a disability.

That asshole Jasper - he might be all gooey eyed for Alice now, but he could have at least warned me that she was _that_ hot.

I could hear Alice and Jasper laughing at me. Fucking tools. I turned my scowl on them as they approached, rolling my eyes at their joined hands. Did they ever stop touching each other? Urgh. I might give Alice shit about not being my real sister, but the truth was I'd grown up with the little pain-the-ass and I felt too much like her brother to stomach the sight of her clinging to a guy.

"Not funny, dipshits," I growled at them.

Alice sniggered, eyes with her hand. "Hate to disagree, but _that_ was freaking hilarious. Who was she? I need to congratulate the only girl who's not only immune to your disgusting charms but also made you look like a thirteen-year-old with his first boner."

I glowered, not answering, but Jasper beat me to it. "Bella Swan, the Chief's daughter. She just moved back here."

"Bella?!" Alice looked delighted and actually squealed, then proceeded to clap her hands and jump up and down like the Energizer bunny on acid. She grinned up at Jasper. "Oh, this is so perfect. Do you remember how Edward used to pull her pigtails _all_ the time until she stuck a a super-wad of gum in his hair and mom had to practically shave his head?"

Jasper sniggered. "That was Bella? That big ass bald patch made me laugh for weeks."

Traitor. I kicked him in the shin, shutting him up as he hopped about. "OW!"

"Yeah, laugh it up, asshole - not another goddamn word or I'll paint your car pink."

"Stop calling my boyfriend an asshole, Edward. It's not his fault that you're still as emotionally retarded now as you were back then."

"What are you babbling about, _Mary_?"

She scowled at the mention of her hated first name "Well, _Eddie_, what I'm talking about is the fact that you used to have a monster-sized crush on Bella Swan. You used to follow her round all the time just to pull her hair and push her over."

I rolled my eyes. "I never had a crush on Swan - I used to push her over because, quite frankly, that shit is hilarious. She was that clumsy she'd usually fall twice again trying to get up." My lips twitched at the memory of her angry little face as she'd chase me to try to retaliate, but usually just end up falling on her ass again instead.

"That's fine, Edward, keep living in denial-land - I hear the weather there is just wonderful. Just don't try and push her over this time - her dad probably gave her pepperspray and you know how proud the Chief would be if she tested it out on you."

"She'd probably just miss and spray herself in the eye. Besides, I don't need to push her - ten bucks says she'll fall down all on her own by the end of the day." Easy money.

Jasper grinned at me, slapping his hand into mine. "You're on."

Alice just rolled her eyes at our antics and inspected her nails, like she was so fucking superior. "Come on, let's go inside. I'm freezing my butt off out here." She gave me a sly grin. "Unless, of course, Edward would like to wait for Bella to come out of the office."

I glowered at her, narrowly resisting the impulse to push _her_ over. I turned and stalked in the opposite direction of the office towards the main doors, ignoring the laughter of Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dumber behind me.

**~ * ~**

I had Spanish first period with Crazy Goff, the Mexican jumping bean who, like the rest of the female faculty, clearly had a continental-size crush on me. Then that reminded me of Bella and my mood soured. How fucking dare she not react to the smile - maybe it was losing it's panty-dropping powers?

Hmm. I swivelled in my seat to catch Angela Weber's eye behind me, the perfect test run as she was one of the few girls in the school who hadn't been introduced personally to my pants. I blasted her with it, the oh-so-casual yet deliberate crooked smirk that I'd secretly practiced in the mirror when I was fifteen, and was pleased to see her cheeks go pink and her eyes glaze over.

Perfect. My powers are still intact - clearly it's just Swan who's immune. Probably something wrong with her brain.

As if my musings had summoned the demon herself, Bella walked into the class room and handed a slip to the teacher, introducing herself in a soft murmur. She'd lost the jacket now and was wearing a vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt that hugged her petite waist and revealed the barest sliver of skin above her jeans.

She headed towards the open seat next to Jessica Stanley, four desks along and one behind where I sat. She tripped over someone's bag and I grinned widely, knowing I'd won the ten bucks from Jasper - but then she grabbed the table and righted herself before she hit the desk. Damn it. Still, I had all day and she'd go down eventually.

I could see Stanley wriggling in her seat, poodle-hair practically vibrating as she was clearly loving the fact that she could be the first to interrogate the new girl. She didn't waste a second, launching into Bella before she'd even managed to get into her seat.

I leant back in my chair and angled my head towards the girls. Not to hear Bella better. Absolutely not. It was just more...comfortable this way.

"So, Bella, where'd you move from?"

Christ, Stanley's voice is so fucking annoying. It's like she had a pet mouse trapped down there that squeaks away for her. Probably does her thinking for her too.

"Phoenix."

"Oh, that's cool," Jess replied inanely. "Isn't it, like, really sunny there? How come you don't have a tan?"

"Well our old postman was an albino, so that could be your explanation right there."

I couldn't help but laugh at that, getting a few odd looks from those surrounding me, and I couldn't stop myself from turning my head fully to look at the two girls. Bella gave me a knowing smirk - smug bitch knew I was listening. Jessica just looked confused, the part of her brain that processes sarcasm clearly absent. Hell, her whole goddamn brain was absent.

I turned in my chair, no longer hiding the fact I was listening in. Jessica, clearly thinking I was watching her, started fluttering her eyelashes and puffing out her poodle hair. Moron.

"Why'd you move back here then?"

Bella answered Jess, ignoring me but not making any effort to lower her voice to prevent me eavesdropping. "Well, my mom remarried, and there's only so many times you can hear your mother screaming '_spank me harder!'_ while screwing her twenty-four-year-old husband before the future therapy bills just get out of hand."

I burst out laughed again, and Jess copied me a moment later with a screechy giggle that was supposed to be endearing but instead made my ear drums wince. Bella smiled politely at Jessica, her face amused as she took in both our expressions.

The bell rang then and conversation was cut off as Senora Goff started the lesson. I cursed the assigned seating in this class, wishing that I'd been able to sit in the row behind Swan and throw things at her head. Ha! I should put gum in _her_ hair - see how she likes being half-bald for a change. I smirked at the thought.

Class dragged by slowly and I glanced at the empty seat next to me where Emmett should be sitting. Stupid prick was home 'sick' after drinking most of a bottle of Jagermeister last night - he was lucky it was our mother who was home this morning and not the step-monster Carlisle. Esme was crazy enough to fall for his explanation of stomach flu - Carlisle would have sent him in anyway and probably took his car away too.

That thought made me frown. Carlisle's most recent brand of punishment was to hold our cars ransom - about the only thing he was able to do to us these days as any attempts to ground me or Emmett were cheerfully ignored. Just four more days until I got the Volvo back - sooner if I can figure out where Dr. Dickhead hid the keys. He'd had to come up with new hiding places as I'd found every one that he used in the house.

Hmm, maybe he wasn't hiding them in the house anymore. Maybe his office at the hospital? I made a mental note to visit step-daddy-dearest on his shift and find those goddamn keys before I had to spend another minute in Jasper's Camaro. Nothing against the car, but the thought of what he and Alice get up to in there makes my skin crawl.

The bell signalling the end of the lesson shattered those disturbing thoughts. Everyone was up and out of their seats, gathering books and talking loudly to each other while Crazy Goff bounced up and down at the front of the classroom and yelled the homework assignment at us in Spanish. Yeah, like anyone was listening.

As Bella was tipping her belongings into her book bag I caught a glimpse of what looked like a drawing on a sheet of paper. Intrigued, I tried to make it out from where I was but it was impossible. As the rest of the class trailed out into the hall I lingered at the doorway, eyeing the corner of the page poking out of her bag and waiting for her to pass me.

She eyed me suspiciously as she approached the door. "Planning to pull my hair like the old days, Cullen?"

I gave her the crooked smile, waiting for her eyes to glaze and her cheeks to blush but...nothing. Fuck's sake - she was still immune! She was smirking back at me as if she could hear every thought in my brain.

I realised I hadn't moved or spoken, just stood there grinning down at her like a demented bouncer, when she arched a brow at me and challenged, "Well?"

I just shrugged and stood slightly to the side, motioning with my arm that she was free to pass. I knew not answering her would piss her off and I wasn't disappointed when I saw the flare of irritation in the eyes. As she passed me by I could smell her delicate floral scent underlain with a hint of smoke and was very nearly distracted from the task at hand. Luckily I recovered from her devil scent before she was gone.

I reached out and grabbed the corner of the paper, pulling it from her book bag with a cry of triumph and running out into the hall, holding the paper high above my head so she couldn't get it back. Midget.

Alice was already there in the hall, shaking her head as she watched my behaviour. "Real mature, Edward."

I ignored her and looked at the drawing on the paper. I'd been secretly hoping to find a picture of myself with love hearts drawn around it and Bella's handwriting proclaiming _E+B forever, I am not immune to the panty-dropping smile and I fully acknowledge Edward is a sex god_ but I was disappointed. Then I was surprised and impressed as I took the picture in.

She'd drawn a caricature of Crazy Goff stylised as a Mexican jumping bean wearing a sombrero. I was shocked - not only was the sketch incredibly well-drawn, but it mirrored my mental description of our Spanish teacher. I was still staring at in surprise when Bella punched me in the stomach.

I involuntarily doubled over, grunting loudly as the air in my lungs escaped me. She used my reduced statute to snatch the sketch from my hand and give me a triumphant grin. "Don't steal my shit, Cullen," she said, and walked away.

Alice by this point was crying with laughter. When Jasper walked down the hall to meet us he looked confused as Alice tried to explain but couldn't get any words out past the giggles. "Bella - picture - Edward he - immature - _punched him_ -"

Jasper just smiled nodded along to Alice's ramblings and pretended that she sounded like she was speaking English, then turned and asked me, "So has she fallen over yet?"

I glowered at him. "No, not yet. But she will. Swan and the floor are old friends."

**~ * ~**

A couple of hours later at lunch Alice was still giggling to herself. Jasper, by now, had heard the full story and was watching me with amusement as my narrowed eyes followed Bella as she walked through the lunch line with Jessica Stanley. As she headed to their table she nearly tripped over the perfectly flat linoleum, but Angela Webber reached out and steadied her before she could fall.

Damn it. So close. As she sat at Stanley's table my eyes followed her, willing her to fall on her ass. I was not going to lose this stupid bet to Jasper. Asshat.

"Stop trying to use mind control powers to make Bella fall over. It's against the terms of the bet," Alice chided with a sarcastic smile. I just grunted at her.

"Emmett called before," Alice said, crunching loudly as she bit into her apple. "He wants us to stop by the grocery store and pick him up some Cheetos for his 'stomach flu'."

I snorted. Emmett always insisted that powdered cheese was a hangover cure and so stuffed his face with Cheetos every time he imbibed too much. "No way, he buy his own snacks. It's his own fucking fault he drank nearly a full bottle - and besides, that was _my_ Jager."

"We'll pick some up on our way home after practice," Jasper promised Alice. He took her hand and kissed each of her fingertips while she beamed at like he'd just built a shopping mall for her own personal use in our back garden. I rolled my eyes; so whipped.

A felt a hand stroke the hair at the back of my neck, long nails grazing my scalp, and I knew from the talons that it was Lauren before she even opened her mouth. She sauntered around me and leaned against the back of Emmett's empty chair, knowing better than to try and sit at my lunch table just because she was the current flavour of the week. Alice scowled at her.

"Can I get ride home tonight, Edward?" she asked, still twisting my hair between her fingers.

I batted her hand away, irritated. "Can't, Lauren. I've got football practice after school."

"I know that," she replied, looking a little annoyed but then quickly smoothed it away. "The squad's got practice too, Rosalie is killing us with this new routine."

I glanced at Rosalie Hale's table across the hall where she sat with her boyfriend Royce King, holding court like the Ice Queen she was. She was already in her cheerleading uniform and her skirt was so short I'm surprised Royce's eyeballs hadn't fallen out of his head. From the look in his eye as he stared at Rose I gave it another five minutes before he started dry-humping her in the middle of the cafeteria.

"Well, I still can't. I don't have my car and Jasper needs to pick something up for Emmett." For the first time ever I was grateful to my older brother and his obsession with violently-orange powdered cheese. "Go bug Newton."

"Fine," she huffed and stalked away.

Alice glared at me in disgust and threw a tomato at my head. I looked at her, annoyed. "What the fuck?"

"Why do you always have to be such an asshole, Edward?" she demanded. "It's bad enough to go through girls like tissue paper, but why do you have to be such a prick to everyone all the time?"

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, a thousand dickhead comments running through my brain. To my surprise, I looked down at the table said instead, "I don't know."

Jasper and Alice both looked surprised, clearly expecting my usual caustic comeback. I didn't say anything else and eventually they went back to their quiet conversation as they finished their lunch.

**~ * ~**

**A/N Reviewers get chocolate-covered Edwards delivered to their doors ;)**

**BPOV up next chapter - unless you want more of Edward's POV? Let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns everything. I just own a new pair of sparkly earrings that make a tinkle-tinkle noise whenever I move my head :D**

**By the way I had to change something minor in the first chapter. I accidentally put that Edward moved to Forks two years ago - now changed to him living in Forks his whole like.**

**CHAPTER THREE**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_"Why do you always have to be such an asshole, Edward?" Alice demanded. "It's bad enough to go through girls like tissue paper, but why do you have to be such a prick to everyone all the time?"_

_I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, a thousand dickhead comments running through my brain. To my surprise, I looked down at the table said instead, "I don't know."_

_Jasper and Alice both looked surprised, clearly expecting my usual caustic comeback. I didn't say anything else and eventually they went back to their quiet conversation as they finished their lunch._

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

I boarded the Greyhound bus and handed over my ticket with a groan, the ugly-ass driver giving me an wary look like I was going to try and sit in his lap and lick him. My destination: Forks, the sweaty eternally-raining armpit of the Pacific Northwest.

Every time I recalled where I was headed I died a little inside, but then I'd just as quickly recall the sound of my mom begging her jailbait toy-boy husband to spank her just a little harder and, like magic, all the reasons why I was moving back to my dad's hometown flooded through me.

So why was I bussing it and not getting a plane? Three reasons, really. First (and most important) was the small stash of Jack Herrers in my back pocket - for some reason airline security takes a dim view of smuggling illegal substances over state lines. Go figure.

Secondly, the money Renee gave me to book a flight was now donated to a better cause than polluting the world with the waste-products of air travel: Jack Daniels. Long-distance journeys were always more bearable with an alcoholic buzz.

And finally - the Greyhound took a ridiculous amount of time to reach Port Angeles, and I relished the delay and the final moments of privacy before my self-imposed exile to small town hell.

I dropped my bag on my chosen seat, the universal sign for _fuck off and don't try to sit next to me_, before nestling into the scratchy impersonal corner that was destined to be my home for the next thirty-eight hours. I slipped my sunglasses on as a defence against the brutal early-morning Arizona sun and took a deep gulp of the JD in my hip flask. I yanked the iPod out of my bag (otherwise known as guilt-motivated gift number one from the new step-dad) and scrolled through until I found Weezer's _Say It Ain't So_, cranking the volume up to damaging levels as I curled up into my seat and tried to forget where I was.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I was aware of was jerking forward in my seat when the bus braked for one of the many scheduled rest stops. I pulled my earphones out, looping them over my neck, and groaned and stretched. My muscles were tight from being curled up on the seat for so long and I staggered bleary-eyed down the aisle to get some fresh non-recycled air.

I was glad I kept the sunglasses on because it let me surreptitiously examine my fellow passengers without them getting the wrong idea as to why I was staring. The motley crew seemed fairly standard - a handful of college students, a couple of businessmen in cheap polyester suits and a few randomers thrown into the mix.

I leaned back against the bus - ignoring the dirty look from the driver - and sparked up a cigarette, idly watching the three guys who'd clambered out of the bus behind me. I guessed from their height and build they were college students, but when I caught a glimpse of their faces I wondered if maybe they were still in high school. They were all of Native American descent, with tanned russet skin and long inky black hair, but it was the furtive mischievous expressions on their faces that caught my attention. _What were they up to?_

I discretely watched them as they walked away from the bus, disappearing around the back of the dilapidated building that we'd stopped by. A combination of boredom and curiosity led me to follow them and I peered around the corner to see them sparking up a hand-rolled cigarette. Then the smell of weed hit me and I smirked as I watched the thick smoke coil up above them.

In my best gruff Police-Chief's-daughter voice I barked out, "You're all under arrest!"

Freaking hilarious - the three of them jumped like they'd been electrocuted and dropped the smouldering joint onto the ground, flapping about like fishwives just informed of a pantyhose sale. I planned to keep the act up for a few seconds longer but their obvious panic made me double over, laughing hysterically as I watched them try and hide the evidence of their misdeeds.

Given my more than unprofessional appearance the three of them figured out my clever ruse quickly. Still giggling, I offered them a swig of my Jack Daniels flask as a peace offering and they happily obliged, offering the slightly-squashed joint to me in return.

"Sorry, guys," I said eventually, once the giggles had died down. "It was cruel I know - but you should have seen your faces!"

The tallest of the three, Embry, shook his head and handed me the spliff with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, fucking hilarious. I nearly shit my pants - and believe me, that is not something I want to sit in for the next thirty hours."

We chatted and smoked a little more, getting pleasantly baked in the sunshine, until the harsh _honk!_ of the bus reminded us that we had places to be. Laughing, we all piled back into the coach, narrowly resisting the temptation to flip the driver off en route, and the three boys commandeered the seats around me.

"So where you headed?"

I frowned at the reminder, my answer sounding like I was admitting to an embarrassing STD. "Forks, Washington."

The three boys gaped at me, then Quil blurted out, "No way! We live on the res right near there, La Push."

I laughed, shocked by the coincidence. "Yeah, I used to go to First Beach when I was younger with my dad. He used to drag me down to the res all the time for fishing, well until he got sick of me falling into the river and disturbing his game."

They snorted at that. "Who's your dad?"

"Charlie Swan."

"No way - you're the Chief's kid! He told Billy you were moving back."

"Billy Black?" I had vague memories of a kind man in a wheelchair who used to sneak me popsicles and his skinny, eager-to-please little kid. "Jake's dad?"

Embry smirked at me, putting a world of insinuation into the simple expression. "Oh, so you know Jake then?"

I rolled my eyes. "Please, I vaguely remember him as the poor little bastard who got stuck rescuing me from falling into the rock pools." They laughed at that. "So you know him?"

They just nodded. "You should come down to La Push sometime, Bella. We have a bonfire on the beach every full moon - consider it a standing invitation. Not many people get those."

"I'm honoured," I said sarcastically, but smiling because I'd had a lot of fun hanging out with these guys. "Count me in."

We spent the rest of the day chatting, playing a couple of hands of poker until I gave up before my last dollar escaped me. Then we played Gin Rummy until the sun set and we all started yawning, falling asleep one-by-one in our seats.

The next day we all woke and groaned as the bus came to another rest stop, trudging out of the coach and blinking in the sunshine. In a fit of true selflessness I allowed Embry to take my other earphone as we waked-and-baked, smirking as he complimented me on my kickass music collection.

When we piled back into the bus I checked my watch and frowned, noting we still had nearly fifteen hours to go before we reached Port Angeles. Quil started to try and build a house of cards, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the constant shaking of the Greyhound bus made his attempts futile. After at least eight failed attempts he gave up and we seized the pack of cards from him, playing Snap enthusiastically until I called a time-out before their competitive streaks and over-large hands accidentally snapped my fingers.

"How are you guys getting from PA to La Push?" I asked curiously, wondering if there was a local bus service or something they were using. I hated the idea of Charlie driving all the way out just to pick me and my baggage up.

Paul answered me. "Our friend Jarred is picking us up." He glanced at me. "We can give you a ride if you want - save Chief Swan from disappearing on shift. Plus," he smirked, "It'll give you a chance to shower and not smell like weed and booze when he sees you."

I laughed at that. "So true. Sure you guys don't mind?"

Embry gave me a lop-sided grin and wriggled his eyebrows. "Nah, how can we mind having your hot ass wedged in between us?"

I snorted, "Yeah right - I'm calling shotgun right now, there's no way I'm snuggling up to you perverts in the backseat."

"Fine," Embry grinned, respecting the ancient rite of calling shotgun. "But I'm not riding bitch!"

Almost simultaneously Quil and Paul yelled out, "Not it!" They then spent the next ten minutes arguing over who called it first, until I made them toss a coin to decide who'd be stuck in the middle of the backseat. Paul lost, and proceeded to sulk for the next hour. Honestly, despite their ridiculously tall stature I felt like I was babysitting a group of pre-schoolers.

I called Charlie and left a message at the station that I didn't need a ride from Port Angeles, pleased that I'd have the chance to freshen up before I saw him. Yeah, he was my dad but he was also a cop and knew what pot smelled like - I _so_ didn't need to be grounded (or arrested) my first night home.

We played I Spy until we crossed the Washington state line, then Paul refused to play any more because I was apparently cheating. Ha! Using my painstakingly acquired SAT vocabulary was not cheating - is it my fault he seemed to be allergic to books? He's lucky I didn't have travel Scrabble with me.

After that we moved onto thumb wars, and I started to worry that my brain cells were being secretly eroded by proximity to these three giant-sized children. They clearly had the advantage on me - their meaty paws were about twice the size of my hands and they took sadistic delight in beating me every game. That is until I pinched Embry's nipple through his shirt and pinned his thumb while he howled - take that, res boy!

"Cheating! That is _clearly_ cheating!"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Embry - show me a thumb war rule book and I'll apologise, but until then take it like a man and suck it up."

Time passed quickly and I was grateful that I had these guys to distract me. We shared my iPod, listening to Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix while Quil practiced his air guitar moves. Not impressive. I totally blew them out of the water when I played _Purple Haze_ against my thigh with a toothpick - even Paul bowed to me and acknowledged I was the air guitar master.

Damn straight.

When we finally pulled into the bus station at Port Angeles the guys helped me tug and carry my bags from the hold, ignoring my protests. It was actually kind of nice having someone look out for me and I shot them a smile of genuine gratitude. Embry ruffled my hair playfully then ducked as I tried to sock him in the gut.

They loaded my bags into Jarred's car, still bantering playfully. Jarred had been surprised to see me, but when Quil introduced me as their new polyamorous wife he just cocked his head and nodded. As predicted, I rode shotgun and laughed as the three of them were crammed into the small backseat, their absurdly long limbs cramped against each other.

The dropped me off at Charlie's house without any directions - apparently _everyone_ knows where Chief Swan lives - and reiterated their invite to the La Push full moon bonfire as they dragged my heavy bags into the house. I laughed and promised I would come there, dropped a chaste kiss of each of their cheeks and smiled as they drove away, whooping and yelling proclamations of eternal love out of the window.

I entered Charlie's house - it was still a little too soon for me to see it as _my_ house, my home - and was enveloped by the scent of Old Spice, gun oil and sandalwood. The place was disturbingly familiar from my brief annual visits, still totally unchanged since I was a child. I looked into the kitchen, wincing at the sunshine-yellow cupboards and recognising Renee's enthusiastic artwork in the bubbling and rippling of the paint. I made a mental note to pick a new colour soon - Charlie seriously needed to move on.

I risked personal injury by lugging the two heavy suitcases up the stairs, but clearly the gods of providence were particularly benevolent today and I survived unscathed. Most of my clothes from Phoenix were unsuitable for Forks' rainy climate so I spent very little time unpacking, just rearranging my collection of knick-knacks and a handful of photos in the Spartan-like bedroom. I also gave the My Little Pony bedspread the stink eye and decided _that_ needed to be changed asap.

By now my head was pounding and my eyes were dry and heavy - the consequences of drinking and smoking too much early in the day. I stripped out of my clothes and hid them in the hamper, adding a spray of Febreze for good measure, before indulging myself with a long overly-hot shower. Afterwards I wrapped my hair in a towel and redressed in sweats and a tank top, mooching back into my room and deciding to take a brief nap. A nap that ended up lasting three hours and was only disturbed by Charlie's call when he returned home from work.

Given that Charlie's range of cooking supplies consisted of out-of-date instant mashed potato and a questionable jar of tomato sauce we ordered a pizza, making our typical non-conversation as we munched on the grease and cheese. I made a mental note to go to the grocery store tomorrow and avoid a permanent diet of oily take-out.

Charlie informed me that he'd registered me at Forks High for the following day and I smiled unconvincingly at him, a little disappointed that he'd been so organised - part of me was relishing the possibility of a couple of days bumming around. He also told me the monster truck outside - which I'd mistaken for scrap dumped at the Chief's house as a joke - was now mine. I faked enthusiasm over the gift, but later when I went out for a test drive I grinned, realising how much I liked the dilapidated Chevy and it was somehow just..._me_. I was also thrilled to see that its antique music system had been updated and even had a docking station for my iPod. Hell yeah!

I turned in early that night, giving Charlie a quick hug and a kiss on his cheek that made him blush and brought a fond grin to my face. I snuggled down into my childhood bed, trying to ignore the soft patter of rain against the window and went to sleep for my first night back in Forks.

**~ * ~**

The next morning I woke to the scream of my alarm and trudged bleary-eyed into the bathroom, nearly falling asleep standing up while washing my hair. Charlie knocked on my door as I was getting dressed in jeans and my favourite Rolling Stones t-shirt.

"I'm heading off to work, Bells. Have a good first day."

"Will do. Thanks, Charlie."

He smiled at me and gave me an awkward one-armed hug, then shot out of the door to his cruiser like he was scared I'd try to reciprocate. I laughed quietly to myself, considering the stark contrast between my parents - Renee was so touchy-feely I swear she had some sort of compulsive touching disorder while Charlie seemed to suffer from haphephobia.

I munched on a granola bar and an apple, double-checking that Charlie's cruiser was definitely gone from outside, then rolled myself a light joint to settle the new school nerves. I would so have to be more careful about this - living with a cop was definitely a world away from an ex-hippie mom who was more likely to raid my stash than flush it.

It was still a little too early to set off for school, but I decided I'd rather sit in the parking lot and people-watch my new classmates than sit nervously in the too-quiet house. I shrugged into the brand new rain jacket with disdain, missing the blazing sunshine and dry heat of Arizona with a sudden pang.

Forks High was easy enough to find, mainly because the town was so goddamn small that I'd have to put some serious effort into getting lost. The lot was almost deserted when I pulled in, just a red Camaro in the middle and a shiny yellow sports car parked at the end furthest away from me. The obviously-expensive vehicle was so out of place in this town that I shook my head and wondered idly if all the drugs and drinking were causing vehicular-related hallucinations. Nah, probably not - if my imagination was going to flip out on me I'm sure it would come up with something much more inventive.

A tall guy with scruffy honey-blond hair was making out with a tiny girl with very short inky hair; going off the clothes I was guessing the sports car was hers. I watched them surreptitiously, amused by the odd picture they cut: he was well over a foot taller than she was, even with the four inch death traps strapped to her feet, and so he had simply picked her up off the ground as they proceeded to try and eat each other's faces. It seemed that the black-haired girl was currently winning that one.

I realised then they weren't alone when I saw the guy perched on the hood of the Camaro, smoking a cigarette and watching my truck with amusement. My stomach dropped when I realised who it was.

_No fucking way. I'm here one day - _one_ goddamn day - and _he_ has to be here already. Someone up there seriously hates me!_

Edward Cullen, the devil himself.

Even if that scruffy mop of bronze hair hadn't clued me into his identity, the arrogant crooked smirk on that absurdly handsome face would have told me who he was. That same stupid expression that he'd have whenever he'd push me over and kick dirt at me, then fold his arms and smirk as he waiting for me to start yelling at him. Sadistic little bastard. I could see him in my side mirror as I stopped the engine, leaving my iPod playing and fought the urge to groan - or possibly moan. Why why why did he have to grow up and look like _that_?! Justice would have been for him to develop a serious Quasimodo-style hunchback, or at least some acne, but instead he looks like he's just been voted GQ's Sexiest Man of the Century.

But I'd join a convent and take a vow to never smoke or drink again before I gave asshole-face the satisfaction of seeing how he affected me. And if he even tries to _touch_ my hair there's going to be a repeat of the bald patch boy incident, except this time it's going to be superglue instead of chewing gum._ Take that Cullen - how will the girls like you without the magical powers of your sex hair? Hah!_

_Stop talking to yourself and _act cool!_!_

_Right_. Rearranging my expression into perfect nonchalance I grabbed my bag and climbed down from the cab, deliberately not looking towards the other end of the parking lot and focusing instead on The Who blasting from my docked iPod. Emergency joint time - I clearly need to chemical assistance to keep calm around Cullen. The couple making out were so distracted they probably wouldn't even notice a pigeon crapping on their heads, and I honestly didn't give a shit what the hair-puller-extrordinaire thought of me.

The familiar burn in my lungs soon gave way to the pleasant buzz that soaked through my limbs, and I leaned back in the back of my truck and watched with curiosity as Cullen slid off the hood of the Camaro, tossed his cigarette and started walking towards me. He was taller than I'd realised and moved like a predator, his eyes locked on mine. He stopped about ten feet away and looked surprised, then stared at the joint in my hand with knowing amusement. I arched a brow at him in silent challenge, taking another deep drag as I waited for his reaction.

The music changed as he stood there, saying nothing, just staring at me. I guessed he didn't recognise me - after all, it had been nine years and I didn't have any characteristics distinctive enough for him to realise it was me. I fought the urge to shift uncomfortably or to look away and hide behind my hair, but I pushed it aside and met him stare-for-stare. Then he gave me a crooked smile that made the hair on my arms stand on end, and stared at me as if waiting for me to fall over backward with my legs open and have a spontaneous orgasm.

So instead, I just crossed my legs and raised my brow, giving him my best _so what?_ look. He looked so shocked it was almost comical and I wanted to laugh out loud. Maybe Forks was going to be fun after all.

"So are you ever going to speak, or are you just going to drool over my truck and CD collection all day?"

_Ha hah! Victory!_ He actually spluttered at my question, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times like a fish gasping for oxygen on the river bank.

_Yeah, a beautiful hot-as-hell fish with gorgeous sex hair and really pretty green eyes... _

_Stop thinking about fish porn, Swan!! Get your head back in the game._

When he still didn't speak I began to wonder if maybe he'd lost his voice at some point over the last nine years. Probably not. He was clearly just shocked that I wasn't fawning all over him like a drooling fangirl.

I held the spliff out to him, and asked, "Want a drag?"

He nodded a little too eagerly and I couldn't help the giggle this time. I climbed down from the truck and nearly fell, but years of practice let me catch myself before my ass hit the ground and destroyed my calm facade. He inhaled deeply and I idly wondered if he'd cough it up - it was pretty strong shit. I was begrudgingly impressed when he didn't, and also a little disappointed - watching him choke would have been hilarious.

"I must say I'm surprised. I wasn't expecting Forks boys to cope with Jack Herrers so easily." Then, because nothing shouts fangirl with stalker-tendencies knowing who someone is when they clearly don't remember you, I asked, "What's your name?"

_'What's your name?' Original, Bella, truly original - your conversation skills are remarkable. And like you don't know who he is..._

_Shut up!_

Then he reached out and touched me, long pianist's fingers wrapping firmly around my hand and his thumb caressed light circles over the pulse point on my wrist. I nearly lost it then and a delicious shiver tingled through my body. Spotting his smirk as he dropped his cheesy pick-up line in a voice of pure velvet, I knew he'd spotted the effect he had on me. Damn it.

Game on, Cullen. Game on.

So I leaned forward and smiled sweetly, nearly losing the plot again when I caught his scent, a bewitching blend of vanilla and cinnamon and something else indefinable - something distinctly male. I'm not positive but I may have actually _moaned_ when I inhaled it.

_Abort! Abort! Abort!_

His cocky confidence grew and I could almost see him mentally counting down the seconds until I started drawing E + B Forever on the side of the my truck. No way. So I moved out of range of his rohypnol-scent and introduced myself before deliberately brushing up against the length of his body, internally doing a victory dance when I heard his breath catch.

"Where have I been your whole life? That's easy. Avoiding you. See you around, stud."

I tossed the joint and walked away from him, heading towards the office and saying a silent prayer of thanks that I'd headed in the right direction. An about-turn now would totally destroy the point I'd just scored against Cullen.

Halfway there I chanced a glance back over my shoulder and grinned at the _what the fuck?!_ look still plastered on his face as he stared after me. I gave a cheeky little wave and carried on to the office.

Yeah, this year was definitely going to be fun.

**~ * ~**

**A/N LOVING the reviews so far - please please keep them coming, they make my day! **

**A few of you asked for more EPOV (and I promise more of that is to follow) but I really needed to cover some things that could only be done from Bella's point of view, so I hope you still liked it...**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns everything. I just own an overactive imagination and a minor case of ear damage from a particularly fabulous Bob Marley tribute band last night :p**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_I tossed the joint and walked away from him, heading towards the office and saying a silent prayer of thanks that I'd headed in the right direction. An about-turn now would totally destroy the point I'd just scored against Cullen._

_Halfway there I chanced a glance back over my shoulder and grinned at the _what the fuck?! _look still plastered on his face as he stared after me. I gave a cheeky little wave and carried on to the office._

_Yeah, this year was definitely going to be fun._

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

Clearly the gods were on my side this morning because it wasn't until the office door had closed safely behind me that my first klutzy moment of the day intruded. Thank fuck Cullen missed that one. All things considered, it was a pretty minor episode - I caught myself on the office counter before I fell too badly, inches away from a busted nose. I smiled sheepishly at the red-headed matron behind the counter, wondering idly if my cheeks matched her hair colour.

I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but she was clearly too eager. "Isabella Swan!" she announced, gushing as if I'd just stepped out of Vogue to hand her an oversized cheque and a thong-clad cabana boy. "Charlie's daughter, of course. So thrilled to have you here! You have his eyes, you know, but you look so much like your mother too. I take it you're after your schedule, hmm?"

_What the hell else would I be in here for?_ I bit my tongue and smiled, deciding to ignore the freaky behaviour that in any other place would be grounds for a restraining order. Small-town life, I guess - everyone knows your business. "Yes, I'm _Bella_," I said, purposefully avoiding the hated full name.

Mrs. Red-Head nodded absently and handed me a stack of papers and a half-chewed pen before directing where I should sign. She loosed a spill of gossip and advice that I barely took note of, my brain slightly fuzzy from the earlier smoke. I was still mentally in the parking lot watching the shift and flex of tendons on Edward's neck as he stood there, shocked and angry...

"..,end of the day. Okay, Bella?"

"Yup," I assented quickly, with no idea of what she'd just said. Whatever. First days were so predictable that I wasn't going to dwell too much. Sign the pink slip, make it to classes, introduce yourself, don't punch the teachers, blah blah blah. Major challenge: not face-planting in front of your peers.

I wandered down the hall and scrutinised my schedule. Spanish first period - not too bad. Luckily for me, Diego - one of Renee's past boyfriends who she'd picked up in Mexico - had been a little work-shy and nurtured a serious addiction to Spanish-language soap operas. He'd taught me the lingo so I could watch with him and join in his bitching about the horror of Alejandro running off with Elsa's cousin, Ramona. _El horro!_ When he tactfully ended things with my mother two months later by running off to Cabo with Jason the lifeguard she had been the only one who was surprised.

When I arrived in the classroom I suppressed the hated blushing reflex when I realised I was a little late and now had the attention of the whole class upon me. Great. I tripped but recovered quickly, ignoring the sniggers, and slipped into my seat as innocuously as possible before concentrating on shuffling my books and pens onto the desk. The desk next to me was occupied by a frizzy-haired brunette with light blue eyes and a hungry and vaguely insincere smile.

I was lost in the pleasant heavy-lidded haze of really good weed and barely found time to cast her a polite eye. I took a couple of swigs from my bottle to relieve the cotton-mouth and proceeded to arrange my pens and pencils by size and colour as the final seats in the classroom filled. At leas the tutor wasn't here yet to mark me tardy for my first class - Charlie would be so pleased.

My skin shivered like smoke over water and I didn't even need to look up to know _he_ was already there, sat one seat in front of a slightly dazed-looking brunette with glasses. I flicked my gaze up at him surreptitiously, feigning preoccupation with my pencil-arranging activities, but my subtlety was wasted as he didn't once try to meet my gaze.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.

My contemplation was shattered by the eager-beever next to me, frizzy hair almost vibrating with enthusiasm over being the first student to interrogate the new girl. Oh joy. I steeled a look of polite interest on my face and tried to focus my floating brain enough to prepare myself.

"Oh my GOD, it is like totes awesome that you decided to sit with me! I mean, you're like the shiny new toy of Forks at the mo and it is like so cool you're sitting here! I'm Jessica by the way, Jessica Stanley. You probably have heard of my dad, he's like a doctor at Forks Hospital, you know?"

I smiled absently - thankful I was high enough to write this off as a bad hallucination - and pinched my thigh to resist asking if she'd seriously just said 'at the mo' and 'totes' in a semi-adult conversation. I was too scared of the text speak that she might vomit upon me to ask.

"So Isabella, is this like the first time you've been to Forks?"

I grimaced, and corrected, "Bella." I glanced up at Jess, and was a little worried when I realised she had yet to blink. "I used to live here when I was younger, but now I've moved back."

"You used you live here?" Jess blinked as if the concept was equivalent to quantum physics. "How come I don't know you?"

_Because you're a fucking moron?_ I swallowed the anti-social reply and responded cordially. "Well, I left when I was eight. When did you move here?"

"Oh my god - when I was ten. That must be why I don't remember you!" She actually looked shocked.

_No shit Sherlock._

_Be nice, Bella - be nice!!_

I smiled sweetly, the expression grating on me but the strain was clearly lost on Jessica. "Yep, that must be it."

"So, Bella, where'd you move from?"

I decided to keep it simple, praying that Senora Goff would kick the lesson off soon. "Phoenix."

"Oh, that's cool," Jess blurted out.

_Cool? How is a location 'cool', particularly Arizona? I can understand the street-cred of somewhere like New York or LA, but spare me, please..._

"Isn't it, like, really sunny there? How come you don't have a tan?"

My over-used sarcasm muscles jumped my voice box and injected their own input before I could beat them back down. "Well our old postman was an albino, so that could be your explanation right there."

Jess clearly didn't get it, blinking at me blankly, but my attention was wholly captured by the deep ringing chime of laughter that disrupted the classroom and made each one of the hairs on the back of my neck rise up like a river of knives. I focused my eyes on the source and my ire rose.

Edward goddamn Cullen.

I rolled my eyes across the room at him, so amused by his attempt at subtle eavesdropping. Hah! If he was leaning any further back in his chair to hear us he'd be horizontal. Asshole. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

"Why'd you move back here then?" Jess asked, fluffing her hair out extravagantly and blinking like ants were assaulting her iris. What was her damage?

I glanced over at Cullen and understanding dawned. He had his freaky-green eyes were locked into our conversation, the concept of personal boundaries clearly absent from the curriculum the day he decided to show. Christ, if Jess preened anymore she'd puff into a cloud of foundation and hairspray.

I shook myself and re-addressed Jess' earlier question. Well, if assface wanted to listen then I'd give him a show....

I smiled serenely and pasted on my perfected angel-face visage. "Well, my mom remarried, and there's only so many times you can hear your mother screaming '_spank me harder!'_ while screwing her twenty-four-year-old husband before the future therapy bills just get out of hand." I shuddered then, because that snippet was disturbing true.

At that, Cullen burst out laughing.

_Fuck me._

His laugh...it rolled over me like a spill of alcohol-laden liquid chocolate. I wanted to shiver and scream, to roll in it and never leave, drenched and sated and drowning forever. I could feel trembles down my arms, sending my fingertips into the devil's rhythm, and then -

Screeching. Giggly, girlish laughter that seemed to shed strawberry pink lip gloss over the table. It took me a couple of moments to recover from Cullen's velvet-voiced humour to realise that Jess was belting out a drainpipe giggle in a drab imitation of Cullen's melodic humour. The joke had clearly exceeded Jessica's comprehension, but the fact that her personal god was amused by it was enough to trigger her grating laughter.

Urgh.

Further conversation was cut off when our tutor bounced into the room and introduced herself as Senora Goff, speaking in a machine gun-style rapid burst of Spanish. I could see most of my peers lost in her accent, but thanks to Diego and reruns of _Los Ricos Tambien Lloran_ I followed her easily as she outlined the module and the coursework. I doodled absently in my notebook, my attention drifting.

"_Senorita, cual es su nombre_?"

I fought the blush and reminded myself to be thankful that she did not insist I stood up before the entire class. "_Me llamo Bella, senora, me movi aqui desde Pheonix._"

"_Ah, espero que usted goce de el aqui, Senorita Bella._"

The class continued and with each conjugated verb the urge to suppress my smile was more intense. Senora Goff reminded me of the jumping Mexican bean commercials from my childhood, a multitude of energy and passion in a concentrated Hispanic form. I drew a fresh page from my notebook and began to draw.

Sketching was my passion - I'd picked it up from one of the million classes my scatterbrained mother had dragged me to over the years. Between yoga breathing, Shiatsu massage and Civil War re-enactions - all of which had been discontinued after a couple of weeks - this was pretty much the only one which had stuck. Well, except for the mean right hook I got from the boxing class Renee had attended for a month after watching _Girlfight_. She'd stopped going after seeing _Million Dollar Baby_ in case her amateur weekend habit landed her in Vegas with permanent paralysis.

I drew one of my sketching pencils from my bag, the lead softer than the usual no. 2 I used in class. I loved colour and paint, but for me there was something about the brutal honesty of charcoal on white that captured me and the majority of my drawings were black and white.

I half-listened to Senora Goff's lectures as I drew a caricature of her as a Mexican jumping bean, complete with sombrero. I sniggered to myself as I softened the lines and added a few touches to reflect her energy, making it look as if she was about to launch herself off the page and start jumping about on the desk. I was pleased with the result - I often did my best drawing high.

The shrill ringing of the bell made me jerk in surprise. I packed my books away quickly, ignoring the babble of the Spanish teacher and nodding absently along with whatever Jessica was babbling.

"...middle of the cafeteria, okay?"

"Uh huh."

"Great! So I'll see you at lunch then, Bella!"

"What? Wait -" _Ah fuck_. Too late. Note to self: smoking weed is dangerous to health, can lead to accidentally agreeing to sit with poodle-hair at lunch. Christ, I really hope that she doesn't sit with Cullen.

The class was nearly empty but the prickle of hairs on my arm told me _he_ was still there. Sure enough as I approached the door he lounged lazily in the door frame, too tall and graceful even in stillness. His dark green eyes watched me with purpose and wicked amusement, his arms crossed and the muscles in his bare forearms prominent and rippling. _Why does something so evil have to be so beautiful?_

I approached him suspiciously, wary of the familiar glint in his eye reminding me of the time in third grade he'd nearly scalped me. He was the main reason I stopped wearing pig tails - gave him too many options to torture me. "Planning to pull my hair like the old days, Cullen?"

He loomed over me, inclining his head slightly and allowing the lopsided killer smirk to bloom over his perfect features. My toes curled slightly in my boots and my heart trebled in rhythm, but I let no hint of it affect my features and, instead, returned the look with a smirk of my own. _Take that, Cullen._

He seemed unperturbed and just stood there, smiling down at me, his proximity a fierce heat just inches away and his seductive scent caressing my skin. I arched a brow at him, wondering what he was up to now. "Well?" I asked.

He ignored me and didn't say a word - _asshole!_ - but moved slightly to the side and motioned me into the hallway as if he owned the fucking place. I scowled at him as I passed, resisting the urge to elbow him in the gut, and stalked out of the classroom.

I heard a rustle of paper and felt a tug on my bag as he ripped the sketch of Senora Goff from my bag, whooping like he was about to do a touchdown dance, and ran away from me like the six-foot-two eternal child he was.

_Fucking prick! Where the hell is the pepper spray Charlie gave me?_ With a growl of frustration I realised I'd left it in the truck. _Damn it!_

"Cullen!" I barked, but he ignored me, grinning down at me as he held the paper far above my head. Freaking beanpole. He knew that I couldn't reach it unless I start some very undignified jumping about and there was _no way_ that was going to happen.

Hmm, have to bring him down to my level then. I smirked to myself and landed a perfect sucker punch into his gut, wincing a little when my fist connected with his stomach. Instead of the softness I was expecting his abdomen was rock hard and I fought the urge to reach back and stroke my fingers over him to discover the ridges of what I'm sure was a six-pack. _Fuck me._

I was also grateful I pulled the punch slightly - going by the sting in my knuckles I could have broken my hand on his stupid, rock-hard body. Grrr.

Anyway - mission accomplished: he doubled over with a choked cough and brought the paper back into my reach. _Ah HAH!_ I snatched my sketch back and grinned at him.

"Don't steal my shit, Cullen."

**~ * ~**

The rest of the day ran fairly standard as first days go, each class and each student disturbingly familiar in that generic high-school way. Even the smell of the corridors was the same - that combination of hormones, body odour, cheap perfume and desperation. I found myself wondering if there was a centralised factory somewhere that manufactured and bottled the scent for distribution to schools all over the country: _eau de puberty_.

I was happy to see that my classes in Phoenix had put me ahead in most of my classes, meaning I could sit back and coast for the rest of the semester. Excellent.

As promised, I sat across from Jessica Stanley at lunch and spent most of my time chatting with Angela Weber, the brunette who'd been sitting behind Cullen this morning. She was softly-spoken and modest, but harboured a dry wit and sarcastic streak to rival my own; I liked her instantly.

A hard-eyed blonde named Lauren Mallory sat in the lap of Mike Newton, a typical jock with baby blues and an over-fondness for hair gel. I remembered Lauren from when I used to live here - she was an uber-bitch even as a five-year-old - and she eyed me appraisingly, clearly remembering me too. She said less than two words to me all lunch, but her glares intensified as Mike continued to interrogate me with undisguised interest about everything from why I'd moved to Phoenix to my waxing preferences.

Ew.

Jessica leaned forward at one point, probably just to interrupt Mike's one-sided discussion with my t-shirt, and stage-whispered, "Edward Cullen is, like, _totally_ staring at you."

At this Lauren upgraded to the Death Glare of Doom, clearly trying to peel the outer layer of skin off my face. I chewed on my pasta and ignored her, glancing behind me to see Edward's pissed-off eyes boring into me as his long elegant fingers tore a muffin apart like it had personally offended him. There were only two others sitting at his table - the couple I recognised from the parking lot this morning, the tiny black-haired girl sitting in her boyfriend's lap and feeding him pizza.

I turned back to Jessica and shrugged, rolling my eyes. "Cullen's an asshole. He's probably trying to cast a voodoo curse on me or something."

Jessica and Lauren both gawped at me like I'd just dropped my jeans and pissed on the table before asking them if they'd like a taste.

"Don't call Edward that," Lauren sneered, clearly responding to the 'Cullen's an asshole' comment.

"Yeah," Jessica parroted, wide-eyed. "He's like, Episcopalian. I don't think his dad would even let him be a voodoo."

At that comment even Angela looked at her like she was a fucking moron and Jessica withered under her scorn. Lauren rolled her eyes and swung off Mike's lap; I could see her in the fuzzy reflection of the cafeteria windows as she sauntered up to Cullen and sunk nails into his scalp. I suppressed a snort of laughter as he waved her away like a wasp at a picnic, but managed to return my face to neutral before she came back to the table and sat down, clearly sulking.

I picked at the remains of my lunch until the bell rang. Angela smiled and tugged me to my feet, offering to drop me off at my next class. I nodded with a grin and dropped both our lunch trays in the corner before following her from the cafeteria, feeling Cullen's glare burn holes in my back the whole time.

**~ * ~**

**A/N LOVING the reviews so far - please please keep them coming, they make my day! ****So...you should review****. If you liked it - click the button!**

**EPOV up next. Also - I've already decided but I'm curious, who wants Edward or Jasper to win the bet over whether Bella falls on her ass by the end of the day?**

**Incidentally - my Spanish comes from a hazy memory of high school combined with Babelfish, so PLEASE feel free to correct any errors I've made! Here's what I was aiming for:**

_Los Ricos Tambien Lloran_: The Rich Cry Too, a 1979 Mexican soap opera.

_Senorita, cual es su nombre_?: Miss, what is your name?

_Me llamo Bella, senora, me movi aqui desde Pheonix_: My name is Bella, madam, I just moved here from Phoenix.

_Ah, espero que usted goce de el aqui, Senorita Bella_: Ah, I hope that you enjoy it here, Miss Bella.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns everything. I just own all of you.**

**In case you forgot - the bet between Jasper and Edward is about whether or not Bella will fall on her ass by the end of the first day...**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_Lauren rolled her eyes and swung off Mike's lap; I could see her in the fuzzy reflection of the cafeteria windows as she sauntered up to Cullen and sunk nails into his scalp. I suppressed a snort of laughter as he waved her away like a wasp at a picnic, but managed to return my face to neutral before she came back to the table and sat down, clearly sulking._

_I picked at the remains of my lunch until the bell rang. Angela smiled and tugged me to my feet, offering to drop me off at my next class. I nodded with a grin and dropped both our lunch trays in the corner before following her from the cafeteria, feeling Cullen's glare burn holes in my back the whole time._

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

I glanced at my watch and glowered. Just over an hour before school was out, and Bella Swan was defying the natural laws of the universe by remaining upright the whole fucking day.

Damn it. I was not going to lose this bet to Jasper. She'd be horizontal by the end of sixth period even if I had to put her there myself.

_Hmm, now there's a thought..._

I didn't even need to turn around to see Jasper's smug smirk of triumph, pre-emptive though it might be. It wasn't even about the money anymore - fuck, that was pocket change - it was about making the point. The point that while the packaging might be different, Bella was still the same awkward klutzy kid she was ten years ago.

I'd even gone so far as to draft in Lauren and her evil army into Bella-Watch, reporting back to me from every class, even though they had no idea what was going on. Explanations were always unnecessary with Mallory and her ilk - the fact that I apparently wanted to relish the new girl's humiliation was sufficient motive in itself.

For some reason that realisation made me a little uncomfortable. I didn't necessarily want to embarrass Bella - well, maybe a little, okay a lot - but it had become a matter of pride now. And, something else....

I snorted. Christ, my shrink would have a field day at the lengths I was going to to metaphorically push Bella over in the playground. This was the exact reason I'd been avoiding Malice the Evil Pixie all afternoon.

Whatever. According to Jessica's latest update Bella had managed to stumble an average of three to four times per lesson, but had clearly acquired some form of magical stabilisers in the last decade because she hadn't _actually_ yet hit the floor. Fuck!

The bell rung and I stomped out of Trig, purposefully elbowing Jasper in the gut on the way out. He groaned but didn't retaliate as usual, only leaned in and whispered, "Sucks to be the loser, right, bitch?"

"Day's not over yet, fuckface," I growled back. He sniggered again, shoving my shoulder and heading down the corridor. I glared after him, but was quickly distracted by Lauren slinking down the hall towards me like a blonde barracuda.

She smirked up at me, tugging the collar of my jacket. "Hey, Edward."

"Lauren," I grunted. She didn't answer, only slid her fingertips up over my collarbone and traced the line, fingernails reaching up to lightly scrape my Adam's apple. I batted her hands away impatiently. "Not now. What the fuck happened in Government?"

Lauren's ice blue eyes narrowed and she withdrew her hands abruptly, repositioning them on her hips as she stared at me like she could see right through me. Disturbing. It was all too easy to mistake Lauren for a typical vacuous tramp, blonde and polished and dripping in innuendo. But it was almost as if two personalities co-existed within her bleached brain: one was flirtatious, materialistic and easily distracted. She giggled at a guy's lame jokes, stroked their egos and other parts, batted her eyes shamelessly and convinced the jocks that they were in control.

And the other... Well, it would be a mistake to underestimate Lauren. Her GPA was surprisingly high given the reputation and persona she exuded, and her intelligence on the Machiavelli scale was even higher. She was ruthless, cold and manipulative. She could read people far too well, had a treasure trove of secrets and insecurities in her mental dossier of the high school population. Simply put: she was dangerous.

I clenched my jaw, sighed, and tugged compulsively on my hair. Lauren watched this silently, doing nothing but arching her brow whilst she waited for me to calm. I grasped her shoulders tightly and met her icy cerulean gaze, asking more softly now, "What happened in Government with Bella?"

"Why do you care?" She narrowed her eyes. "Are you into her? Because I was under the impression you two hated each other."

I frowned, "No I'm not _into her_." I snorted in disgust. She remained unconvinced and I fought to restrain the next question but it bubbled up my throat like bad acid, "And what do you mean, why do you think we hate each other."

Lauren rolled her eyes as if she'd scored a point and inspected her fingernails. "Well, for one thing I remember you two in elemental school. Do you not remember the time you poured a bucket of paint on her head?"

I sniggered at the memory. I'd actually forgotten that, but Lauren's words brought back the memory of her pale little angry face dripping in pink paint and screaming at me across the classroom.

Lauren registered my amusement, and continued. "Not the mention the endless cycle of teasing, name-calling and hair-pulling. And the fact she called you an asshole today at lunch in front of the whole cafeteria. Clearly neither of you have grown up."

_She called me an asshole? What a bitch!_ "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, please, Edward. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? You might be able to get Jessica and the rest of the tramps to do your bidding with nothing more than a flash of the Cullen charm like the mindless little minions they are, but give me a little more credit. You just _happen_ to be interested in Bella Swan's balance issues all of a sudden? It's pretty obvious you have a bet with your fellow gambling addict." She laughed mirthlessly. "But that's not even what I meant."

"Oh?"

Lauren folded her arms and glared at me. "You have a _thing_ for Bella Swan."

I snorted. _Bullshit._ "Impossible. Bella might have a hot ass, but she's a raging bitch and has a personality that makes Chernobyl look pleasant. I do _not_ have a thing for Swan."

She rolled her cold, too-perceptive eyes and swished blonde locks over her shoulder. "Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, Edward. And in the meantime you might want to go Google the psychological significance of pre-adolescent boys pushing girls over in the playground and pulling their pigtails."

"Nice, Lauren. You might want to Google the interest rate your pimp will charge when you don't get your ass back to your street corner and make his weekly cut."

Instead of retorting she just rolled her eyes and swung her backpack on, turning from me and leaving me glowering after her in the hallway. Shit. I still didn't know what the fuck happened in fucking Government...

"Lauren!" I bellowed after her, clenching my fists to resist the urge to shake the information out of her.

She glanced back over the shoulder with knowing amusement. "Sure, I'll share, Edward - but only because I know the answer will piss you off more than keeping quiet." She grinned. "Jasper's still on to win the bet."

_Fuck!_ How had the klutzy queen managed to avoid fate for this long? I didn't answer Lauren, just let my anger billow out into a living cloud around me that sent the student population scattering out of my path like frightened livestock as I turned and stalked down the corridor towards the last class of the day: Biology.

**~ * ~**

Mr. Banner didn't even bother shooting me a disapproving look as I banged the door to his classroom open with such force that the handle left a divot in the wall. Bland fucker looked even more pissed off to be stuck in high school than I was, and he just waved me to my seat with a bored expression and went on explaining today's lab to the class.

_Fuck my life_.

I stopped dead in the centre aisle, glaring at the newest encroachment into my personal space courtesy of Bella Swan. No one sits next to me in Biology - the last thing I need is for my GPA to be disrupted by a vapid sorority-wannabe who thinks osmosis is a type of cereal.

"Mr. Cullen, is there a problem?"

I glared at Mr. Banner, shaking my head with a forced smile. Carlisle would never give me the fucking Volvo back if I got a detention on the first day back for knocking a teacher out. With a low snarl I stalked to the desk, dropping my bags and books on the table next to the brunette temptress. She ignored me completely.

_Good_.

Seconds past and Mr. Banner's voice droned on. Bella still ignored me, a curtain of tangled curls blocking my view of her face. My fingers twitched as I resisted the impulse to push her hair aside to see her face, to find out if the brown locks were as soft as they looked...

Bella pushed a crumpled piece of paper across the desk towards. I glanced at her chicken scratch writing and smirked, but then immediately scowled once I read the note.

_Stop staring at me, Dickward._

I scoffed and pulled my own pen out, writing quickly and pushing the message back to her.

_I wasn't staring, I was just checking out the 666 birthmark on the back of your neck. And what the fuck is 'Dickward' anyway?_

Bella's knuckles whitened as she read my reply, and when she wrote back her handwriting was even more erratic than before.

_Dickward is _you_, Edward. Think about it - I'm sure you'll somehow manage to figure it out. And stop trying to distract me - some of us actually give a shit about this class._

I rolled my eyes, and wrote. _Yeah, some of us do give a shit. If you're so bothered then why the fuck did you write to me in the first place?_

_If you're so bothered then why the fuck did you respond?_

_Bite me, bitch._

_No thanks, Cullen, I didn't get my rabies shot yet._

"Mr. Cullen, I hope that you and Ms. Swan are not writing notes to each other instead of paying attention to the stages of mitosis?"

I'd been hiding notes and exercising teacher-related deception for years, so I hid our communication effortlessly. "Of course not, Mr. Banner," I lied smoothly, holding up a page with a handwritten record of his lecture so far. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the huge gaps in there. "Would you like to see?"

Mr. Banner waved dismissively. "No, that's fine. Just pay attention."

I smiled angelically and sat poised with pencil in hand, the epitome of scholarly interest. I could hear Bella's muffled snorts of amusement beside me as her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Halfway through the class my phone buzzed in my pocket, signalling a text message had arrived. Hiding my actions under the table I flipped the phone and opened the inbox.

_You owe me ten bucks, loser._

Fucker. I pinched the bridge of my nose and texted Jasper back.

_Day's not over, prick. And what are you, ten? You'll be resurrecting the 'loser sneeze' next._

Jasper responded almost immediately. _Didn't realise you had the monopoly on channelling our inner child. Speaking of which, how is Ms. Swan today?_

My response was brief and to the point. _Fuck you_.

My phone buzzed again. _Only if you say pretty please, Ed. So be prepared to pay up and admit you're my bitch after school in the parking lot._

I smirked, knowing just how to get under his skin, and responded. _The only bitch in the parking lot will be the pixie sucking you off_.

I'd barely hit send when Jasper replied. _For the last fucking time, Cullen, watch your goddamn mouth about Alice or I'll fuck you up. Got it?_

I just sniggered and ignored him, switching my phone off. Asshole.

I checked the clock, frowning when I realised there were less than ten minutes to go. I glanced over at Bella, momentarily transfixed with the slight furrow between her brows as she concentrated on Banner's lecture.

Ah, well. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

The bell went and I gathered my supplies slowly, deliberately lingering as I waited for Bella to leave first. As she skirted around my chair and towards the door I _accidentally_ jerked my foot forward and hit her behind her ankles, sending her tumbling backward onto her butt.

_Score!_

After all, it would be cruel to just push her forward - she might land on her face or something, and I wouldn't want that.

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

I was vaguely aware of Cullen's leg shooting out into the aisle, then the disconcerting lack of balance as I felt my feet shoot out beneath me.

The next sensation that overwhelmed me was my butt slamming into the linoleum, sending a shooting pain through my tailbone and bruising my ass cheeks. _Holy fuck!!_

I leaned back on my elbows, muttering a litany of curses under my breath as I tried to scramble to my feet. Mike's over-eager face appeared before me and he yanked me to my feet by my upper arms. "Are you okay, Bella?"

"Fine," I muttered, grimacing and shifting uncomfortable. _That fucking hurt!_

"Are you sure? You went down pretty hard..." Mike looked the picture of innocent concern, but then his hand snaked behind me to massage my butt. "It must have hurt -"

"Get your goddamn hands away from there!" I snapped, skating out of the pervert's grasp and folding my arms.

"Coach made us go to these classes on deep tissue massage, they're really good for impact injuries -"

"Drop it, Mike," I snarled, glaring at him. He must have seen the fire in my eyes because he gulped and nodded sheepishly, before starting to back away across the classroom. I watched him with beady eyes until he disappeared.

Then I gathered my fury about me like a winter coat and turned on the cause of all this, the fallen angel himself, sitting so innocently and apparently oblivious as he gathered his books. Bastard could barely control the twitching of his lips.

I growled, injecting seventeen years' of anger and frustration and irritation into one word. "_YOU!_"

Edward just looked at me with carefully crafted puzzlement. _Ha! Try harder, stupid. _He tilted his head as he asked, "Me, what?"

"You know what, you little prick. You tripped me on purpose - what the fuck is your problem?!"

He laughed and shook his head, playing his part so well that in any other circumstances I would have been begrudgingly impressed. "First of all, there is nothing 'little' about my prick, Swan. And secondly, I don't know what you're talking about. You've never needed anyone's help to fall over before. Perhaps you hit your head? Concussion can confuse weak minds, after all."

My vision swam red and I was vaguely aware of picking up Cullen's advanced chem textbook from the desk and lobbing it towards his head.

"What the fuck?!" he roared, ducking aside.

I didn't answer, just grabbed his Calculus book and threw that too, gratified to see that I was a little closer to the mark this time. "You're a fucking crazy bitch!"

"Ha!" I roared. "You have no fucking idea, Cullen."

He evaded the next missile and dashed out into the corridor, leaving me to storm after him. I pushed him with all my strength against the far wall, and was even more angry when I realised I'd barely managed to move him an inch.

I was vaguely aware that the corridor was full of students gaping at the scene unfolding, pouring out of classrooms and checking lockers at the sound of the bell. But all that was irrelevant. In that moment no one existed but the two of us.

"What is your problem?!" I demanded.

"My problem!? You're the crazy lady throwing textbooks at my head."

"Gee, I wonder why. Maybe because you're the prick who tripped me up for no reason! I could have really hurt myself."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "If falling over was going to hurt you then you'd have been in a full body cast by the time you were five. Don't be such a goddamn drama queen."

At the last the tall blond boy he'd been with this morning stepped forward, looking half-pissed and half-amused. "You tripped her? So not cool, Edward - you can't win the bet by cheating."

"Shut it, Jasper," he hissed.

A red film descended over my gaze and I wished that I'd thrown something more than a couple of textbooks. A chair or the desk maybe. "A bet?" I growled. "You bet I'd fall over, and because you couldn't bear to lose, you pushed me anyway. You're such a dick!"

"I tripped you, not pushed you," he argued, as if that made a difference.

I snapped. "You haven't changed a bit, Cullen! Still the same self-obsessed, narcissistic little boy who used to throw a tantrum every time your _mommy_ made you share your toys!"

"And you're still the same uppity, frigid little bitch who could never take a fucking joke - and for the record, I never had a problem sharing my toys. I just didn't want to share them with _you_ - don't think I've forgotten what you did to my GI Joe! You were the only one I refused to let near my shit."

_Fucking prick!_ I snorted and resisted the impulse to claw his eyes out. "Frigid bitch? Refusing to play 'doctor and nurses' with you does not make me frigid - in fact, I mark it as a sign of early sanity that I wanted to keep away from your fire crotch, you asshole. And please don't tell me you're still crying over your stupid doll - if you recall, you started the whole prank war by shaving the hair off my Malibu Barbie and burying it head-first in the begonias."

"First of all, Swan, GI Joe is not a 'doll', he's a kickass action figure so shut the fuck up. Secondly, I should have shaved _your_ goddamn head - payback for the gum incident, bitch."

I snorted with laughter and decided now was the time to resurrect the oh-so-predictable but yet classic nickname from the old days. "Guess you shouldn't have poured paint on my head. Anyway, even if you had shaved me it still would have been totally worth it, _bald-patch boy_."

He growled - actually fucking _growled_ at me - and stalked towards me with dark menace in his eyes. For a moment I was actually a little scared and backed up until I slammed into the lockers as he loomed over me, fierce and quivering.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

My heart rate was through the roof, but I forced a scornful laugh out through the lump in my throat. "Why, what you going to do? Spit your dummy out? I'm seriously terrified, Cullen." Okay, so I was a little, but dealing with Edward was like coping with feral dogs - never let them see your fear.

I even inspected my fingernails with a bored expression for dramatic effect.

His forest green eyes were fierce and wicked. He leaned in close, far too close. I could taste his breath on my lips. "You should be terrified, Swan," he purred. "You know, I was willing to be the mature one here and let the past stay in the past. But clearly you're still too fucking selfish and immature to let that happen."

I pushed him back. "_Let_ the past stay in the past?" I yelled at him, incredulous. "You took selfishness to a new art form, you couldn't bear to share the limelight with anyone for even a minute and god forbid that _anyone_ neglected to worship the ground you walked upon. You were the one who behaved like a total asshole to _me_! Or have you forgotten the time that you tied pork chops to my ankles on my _birthday_ and let your stupid dogs chase me for four blocks?"

His lips twitched in amusement at the memory, but he recovered quickly. "That was an accident, I thought you'd like the pork anklets. How was I supposed to know what would happen?" I opened my mouth to respond, but he interrupted. "Anyway, how selfish are _you_ - Christ, the _one_ day you decide you can suddenly walk upright like the rest of us and it has to be today! You cost me ten bucks, Swan."

I scoffed. "Please, like that's anything more than pocket change to you, rich boy. You probably tip your skank brigade more than that as a thanks for ingesting their daily dose of the Clap from you."

I was vaguely aware of Jasper and his petite black-haired girlfriend watching us with slack jaws from down the hall, along with half the student body. Their eyes flicked back and forth between Edward and I like there were watching a tennis match.

"Jealous much, Swan?"

"Of not sharing in your STD circle? Oddly enough, no."

He laughed without humour. "Well, if anyone here is an expert on STDs we all know it's you."

"Really, Cullen? Try and keep your insults a little more streamlined - you called me a frigid bitch before, now I'm a whore. Try and make up your mind."

Whatever response Cullen was planning to make was lost because at that moment I shoved against his chest, catching him off guard and sending him careening into the wall behind us.

What I didn't notice was the fire alarm panel behind him. The soft tinkle of broken glass echoed down the suddenly quiet hall for a moment before the ear-splitting whine of the fire alarm erupted throughout the school.

_Oh shit_.

Right at that moment Mr. Banner and the Principal walked around the corner, just in time to see Cullen and I grappling over the broken fire alarm. They glowered at us with identical expressions - _do they learn that face at teacher school or something?_ - then folded their arms, clearly awaiting an explanation.

Cullen and I spoke at the same time, pointing fingers at each other as if we were once again in grade school.

Just as I yelled, "He did it!" Cullen retaliated with his own oh-so-mature chant of "She started it!"

Yep. First day, and I was already screwed. Charlie was going to be pissed.

**~ * ~**

**A/N Please review - it only takes a second and makes me write faster!**

**So...'fess up, guys. What was the most childish bet you made in high school?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns everything. I just own too many belongings and not enough packing boxes.**

**CHAPTER SIX**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_Right at that moment Mr. Banner and the Principal walked around the corner, just in time to see Cullen and I grappling over the broken fire alarm. They glowered at us with identical expressions - do they learn that face at teacher school or something? - then folded their arms, clearly awaiting an explanation._

_Cullen and I spoke at the same time, pointing fingers at each other as if we were once again in grade school._

_Just as I yelled, "He did it!" Cullen retaliated with his own oh-so-mature chant of "She started it!"_

_Yep. First day, and I was already screwed. Charlie was going to be pissed._

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

"Cullen!" Coach Clapp roared from across the field. "What's this shit I hear about to getting detention already? If I didn't know better I'd think you're deliberately trying to get your step-father to pull you off the football team. That, or you really delight in messing with my blood pressure."

I scowled at the coach, tossing my helmet from hand to hand. "It's one detention, Coach. It's not like I burnt the school down."

The Coach's face turned a little more puce at that. "Don't get any goddamn ideas. What the hell did you do anyway?"

"Fire alarm," I muttered, not wanting to add any further incriminating details. Such as '_because a girl shoved me into it_' or '_because I pushed a girl over to win a bet'_. Hmm, not actually sure which one would bother me more to admit...

Clapp grunted but didn't press for anymore details, running his hand over his short buzz cut and looking disapproving. "Always the same shit with you, Cullen. You're a senior this year - it's about time you sort your act out and set some sort of example to the rest of the team and the school. Now, go sit on the bleachers 'cos you're pissing me off - you're benched for this practice."

"What the fuck?!" I roared, throwing my helmet onto the ground. The rest of the team were doing warm-up laps across the pitch, but slowed and began to drift over as. Fucking nosy bastards. "You're benching me for one fucking detention."

"Watch your mouth, Cullen, or I'll bench you for the whole goddamn season," the hypocritical son-of-a-bitch growled. "Newton - you're up. Take Cullen's spot today."

Newtboy grinned at the chance of playing quarterback - _my_ fucking position - the spot that little shit had been drooling after since junior high. "Don't get fucking comfortable, Newt!" I yelled across the field, stomping over to the bench and throwing myself down with enough force to crack it at one end. Oops. Luckily Coach Clapp was too distracted to notice.

Jasper shot me a sympathetic look from the other side of the field before jogging over to join the captain, Royce King, as he barked out instructions to the rest of the team. Groaning I stripped my gear and leaned back on my elbows, settling in for a fucking boring long-ass hour.

After practice I changed and sat in Jasper's Camaro, still fuming as I waited for him to finish showering and drive me home. Christ I couldn't wait to get my Volvo back, to have a bit of goddamn freedom and not have to sit here and shudder as I wondered what Jazz has done to my sort-of-sister in the back seat.

Then I groaned. Shit. There was no way Carlisle was going to give me the keys to the Volvo if he found out I already had a fucking detention by the end of the first day back. I checked my watch and grimaced; there was a chance that Carlisle wouldn't be back from the hospital yet, meaning I'd have a chance to erase the answer phone message from the school before he got home. Unless Esme had already gotten it...shit.

Then I grinned, remembering Alice was home. She seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for Bella and was hardly my biggest fan after today, but I'm sure I could bribe her to do my bidding with pixie sticks or something. I flipped out my phone and dialed her cell.

"What do you want, Edward?"

"A favour. Is mom home?"

"No, she went shopping in Port Angeles. Why?"

"Is the step-dickhead there?"

"Don't call Carlisle that. And why do you want to know?"

"Just answer the fucking question, Alice!"

There was a click and then a dial tone - damn it!! Bitch hung up on me. I slammed my fists into the dash and reached into the glove compartment, poking around until I found one of Jasper's pre-rolled stash. I cranked the window, lit the joint with his Zippo and pinched the bridge of my nose before redialing.

It rung once then was answered. "What?" Alice snapped, sounding pissed.

"Look, I'm -" I inhaled deeply, banging my heel into the car floor and steeling myself for the hated word "- _sorry_, okay."

Alice burst out into bell-like peals of laughter. "Jesus, Edward, you actually had to light up just to get that out, didn't you?"

"I'm not smoking," I lied defensively through a mouthful of ash, ducking the blunt behind my hand to hide it before I realised how ridiculous my actions were. It's not like she could actually see me...right?

"Whatever you say, my dear delinquent. So, why do you want to know if Carlisle's home?"

I groaned and leaned my head back. "I need to know if he's heard the message from school yet."

"Ah, so you want me to erase the answer phone message before he has a chance to ground you and send the Volvo to an impound lot because you got into trouble?"

All-knowing evil pixie midget. "Yes, Alice."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure I approve of this. After all, not only were you gambling and acting like a neanderthal, you also disrespected school property. You could have really hurt Bella - what if she'd fallen the wrong way and broke her neck? Not to mention -"

"All right!" I snapped. Extortion it is then. "Cut the self-righteous crap. What do you want?"

Alice giggled, probably petting Mr. Bigglesworth and throwing candy to Mini-Me as she spoke. Wait a minute, she probably _was_ Mini-Me...

"I want two favours," she said, her tone amused but lined with steel as it interrupted my musings. "To be named at a future date, and you have _no_ veto at all. You have to do exactly what I tell you, no questions asked. If you refuse to do either favour then I'll not only tell Carlisle about this, but I'll also tell them it was you who mailed naked pictures of him to all the board trustees last year."

Ha! That was fucking hilarious - but Carlisle would send my car to the crushers if he found out about that...and probably send me there too. "One favour," I countered, gritting my teeth.

"You know, I think I hear Carlisle's car in the driveway now -"

"Fine, fine! Two favours, just erase the fucking message before he hears it."

"It's a deal, Edward." The phone clicked and went dead once again. I groaned and tugged on my hair, inhaling furiously on the joint and wondering what the hell she was going to make me do. Fuck.

The driver's door was pulled open and Jasper swung in, hair still wet from the shower. He leaned over and plucked the joint from my fingers, silently berating me for lighting up without him. I just shrugged, and going off the silent arched brow in response I looked pathetic enough for him to let it go.

**~ * ~**

Jasper finally made it to my house after insisting on stopping for Cheetos, the pussy-whipped freak. He just shrugged and gave me a lopsided grin at my accusation, drawling only, "What Alice wants, Alice gets."

I sneered at him. "Well it was Emmett who wanted the Cheetos, that make you his bitch, too?" Jasper just idly punched me in the gut and went into the grocery store, whistling like a drugged-up hippie. Which he was.

Alice opened the front door before we even got there, jumping into Jasper's arms and kissing him dramatically like he'd just returned from the war. I rolled my eyes, barreling past them into the house and heading for the kitchen.

"Edward!" I turned in time to catch the bag of Cheetos Alice threw at me. "Take those up to Emmett."

"Is this one of the favours?"

"Nope," she said, grinning. "Just a random act of brotherly kindness that will keep me happy and quiet for the next couple of hours."

Great, now I'm her bitch too. "Where's Carlisle?"

"In his office. I erased the message before he got home, but..." she trailed off. I sarcastically beckoned for her to continue. "He still looked really pissed."

"Great." I stomped up the stairs to Emmett's room and opened the door, wrinkling my nose at the stale smell of teenage boy, alcohol and half-eaten pizza. Fuck, my brother is disgusting.

He was lying in bed face down, snoring like a chainsaw. With a vindictive grin, I moved silently across the obstacle course of crap dotted about on his floor and hovered over his semi-comatose form before pressing the bag of Cheetos into his head and crinkling that fucking loud packaging as hard as I could next to his ears. "Buy your own hangover snacks next time, motherfucker!"

Emmett grunted and shot up, flinging one of his meaty paws out towards me and swatting me halfway across the room. "You're such a dick, Edward," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. He still looked like crap. "I'm fucking dying here - where's your compassion?"

"It disappeared the second you drank all my Jagermeister."

"Don't be such a pussy. We're brothers, we share shit. So man up and stop bitching." Emmett leaned forward and snatched the bag of Cheetos open, shoveling them down and getting powdered cheese all over himself and the bed sheets. "Got any Gatorade?"

"No."

Emmett muttered to himself and staggered over to the doorway, absently scratching his balls one-handed while still eating Cheetos. Nice. "ALICE!" he bellowed, then winced at the sound level while I sniggered.

Alice skipped into the bedroom, Jasper trailing behind her like a loyal but strung-out puppy dog, and tossed a bottle of Gatorade to Emmett. "You're a lifesaver, Ali," Emmett said, pulling her in for a bear hug and ruffling her hair.

"Eww, Em! While I appreciate the sentiment, don't touch me again until you've had a shower. You smell like you're sweating pure alcohol right now."

Jasper leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and grinning at Emmett's suffering. "So how's the stomach 'flu, man?"

"Totally worth it," Emmett smirked. "Irina Denali was more than impressed with my Jager-chugging abilities, and rewarded me accordingly." Predictably, Jazz and I sniggered while Alice rolled her eyes. Hypocritical wench - like she wasn't do the same fucking thing in the rec room with Jasper last night.

"Anyway, how was the first day back at Fuck's High, kids?"

Alice and Jasper grinned at each other. "You missed a very interesting day, Em."

He scoffed. "First day of senior year is never interesting."

"You'd know," I smirked. "Second time's the charm, though, right?" Em just threw the half-empty Gatorade bottle at my head.

"Edward got detention for getting into a fight with a girl...which he lost," Alice said, grinning evilly at me. Emmett snorted loudly with laughter.

"I didn't fucking lose, and it wasn't even a fight. It was a stupid bet that that fucking bitch messed up and because of _her_ I now have detention."

Emmett frowned. "I'm confused, bro. Start from the top."

"Well, Edward has a crush on the new girl -"

"I do _not_ have a fucking crush on Satan's newest concubine!"

Alice rolled her at eyes at me. "God, Edward, for a supposed intelligent person you have got the stupidest guy I've ever met. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

"Evidently," Emmett interrupted, stuffing a handful of Cheetos into his mouth as she spoke. God, he's such a pig.

Alice spoke with exaggerated slowness. "You...like...Bella. It's so obvious, Edward. You know how a lot of guys flirt by teasing and winding up girls based on the childhood playground mentality of pushing them over and pulling their hair? Well, you're doing that - except with you it's not a metaphor. You are still _actually_ pushing her over!"

I snorted and shook my head at my delusional little fake-sister. "You seriously need to up the Ritalin dose, pixie bitch."

Emmett was grinning widely at us both. "Hang on - Bella? Do you mean Bella Swan? As in little Belly who used to live here?" He started laughing, "The one who we tied that fake rubber snake to the back of her leg and she nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to run away from it? Man, I thought Chief Swan was going to shoot us for that one!"

I choked on the soda I was drinking. "Fuck, I'd forgotten about that one. Wasn't that your idea?"

Emmett nodded with with dreamy-eyed proud nostalgia. "Yeah. It was one of my favourites actually. Well, that and the pork chop thing."

Alice stared at us both in disgust, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. "You two are disgusting. Edward, I already know you're a giant asshole, but Emmett - what the hell did you have against Bella?"

Emmett shrugged, picking up the Gatorade and drinking heavily. "Nothing, she was pretty fucking entertaining actually. Honestly, Ali-Cat, you should have seen her hopping around trying to get away from the 'evil snake' following her." He chuckled wickedly into his drink and leaned forward to bump fists with me.

Alice threw her hands up and whirled around, stalking off towards the stairs and muttering inaudibly to herself. Even though she was only half my size, watching her angry strides made Emmett and I exchange nervous glances that silently communicated that it was probably a good thing we couldn't hear what she was saying.

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

Shit.

No, scrap that. Make it double shit with raspberries. Detention on my first day - just perfect. Charlie is going to be so proud.

The whole ride home from that goddamn institution of hell and brimstone - otherwise known as the glorious rite of passage that is high school - I'd been praying to whatever pagan gods cared about a fuck-up stoner like me that Charlie would not be home.

Clearly someone was sitting up there on a poufy white cloud and laughing their ass off, knee-slapping and pointing down to me as the ultimate example of why screwing with humanity was so freaking entertaining.

Fuck. My. Life.

Contrary to all my semi-blasphemous prayers Charlie's cruiser was parked in the driveway, a living testament to purple-faced patriarchal indignation that was sure to confront me the second I stepped through the door.

So...two options really. One, park up and march through the door with my big girl panties firmly pulled up, ready to confront my fate like the grown-up I aspired to be. After all, Cullen might be a giant flaming asshole but it was still my choice to retaliate and therefore I was at least partially responsible for my impending detention.

Or option two. Drive around to the edge of the forest and smoke a quiet blunt in peace.

Hmm, which to choose?

Not even a contest. Option two was a clear winner.

Fifteen minutes later I hopped out of the Chevy after spraying myself in a cyclone of body mist, adding a few eye-drops to my ruby eyes to complete the facade. I rationalised by telling myself that it wasn't lying exactly, it was more like _protecting_. After all, Charlie was pretty much guaranteed to throw a full-blown diva shit-fit if he ever found out about my extra-curricular activities...and given the sheer quantity of arterty-hardening animal fat in his diet the chance of a heart attack was unavoidable.

_See, oh Lord, I'm a good caring daughter. _

_Right...?_

Shit, if He does exist He'll definitely see right through that crappy attempt at absolution.

Anyway - eyes on the prize! Or, at least eyes on avoiding lifelong imprisonment in a convent...or jail. Fuck, so shouldn't have smoked up before this particular confrontation, but if regrets were horses we'd all be thigh-deep in shit.

Or something. _Where the fuck did I hear that? _Whatever_._

Stop digressing, Bella!! Focus focus focus!

I moved to clamber back into the truck cabin and let out a loud 'oof!' as my foot slipped and I face-planted right into the driver's seat. Shit, that really fucking hurt! I glanced around surreptitiously, rubbing my bruised nose, and was happy to see the lack of spectators...for once.

I climbed behind the steering wheel with a little more grace this time, pumping the clutch and putting my clunking behemoth of a truck into drive. The engine roared and spluttered loudly but thankfully stayed alive long enough to get me the five minutes back home.

And Charlie's cruiser was still there.

Seriously, karma hates me.

So I sat there in the driveway, gripping the steering wheel and contemplating my future fate thanks to the bizarre tunnel-visioned philosophising that only seriously good weed can gift.

But like all good things even this must come to an end...which it did. The dramatic _thwack_ of the front door jerked me from my contemplation and landed me smackbang into Charlie's beady-eyed glare as he stood there, arms crossed in full police uniform. And armed.

_Oh shit_.

I smiled weakly and waved a sickly looking hand from my truck. "Hi, daddy."

His glower intensified and I swear I saw his hand twitch towards his gun belt. He wouldn't shoot his only daughter, right?

"Isabella Marie," he growled - uh oh, we're in middle name territory - "I was wondering if you could enlighten me about the phone call I just received from the principal's office."

I smiled sweetly, internally wrapping myself in the classic teenager-defence strategy: deflect, deflect, deflect and _never_ admit anything until confirmed by said parental figure.

"What phone call?"

The glower intensified and this time I had no doubts about the hand twitch - he was seriously two seconds away from drawing the gun on me. Granted, I was sure it would be for dramatic purposes only...but still. Accidents do happen.

"My patience is hanging by a thread, Isabella. The school told me that you got into a fight and set off the fire alarm today."

I scowled at the skewed description of my victimisation and assault by Cullen the assface. "I so did not - I never touched the stupid fire alarm, it was Edward Cullen who did it when -"

I broke off at Charlie's tortured groan and watched with trepidation as he slammed his head into the outer wall repeatedly. I briefly considered calling the hospital to arrange a psych patient transfer, but decided instead to wait it out.

"Dad, is everything okay because you look kind of -"

"_Edward Cullen_," he growled, beetle brows arched directly at me. "You've been here less than forty-eight hours and not only have you already landed yourself with detention but also managed to transport me back ten years."

_Huh?_

"What are you bab- talking about?" I wisely decided at the last minute to replace 'babbling' with 'talking' - Charlie was angry enough without my snarky mouth.

"I'm talking about the fact that it's been nearly a decade since you've lived with me and I'm already getting deja vu flashbacks to when you used to visit. Christ, if I had a dollar for every time I had to go over to the Cullens to pick you up after some ridiculous prank with Edward had gotten out of hand I'd be sitting in a Malibu beach house with a life-sized Barbie of my own right now."

I wrinkled my nose. "First of all - eww. Seriously. Second of all, it is not my fault that Edward Cullen is a socially retarded neanderthal who apparently takes great delight in tormenting me. Incidentally, did the school get around to telling you that the reason for the argument was that he tripped me in front of _everyone_ in the middle of class?" I shifted uncomfortably. "I currently have a bruise the size of Canada forming on my butt because of him."

Charlie arched a brow. "No, they didn't mention that. I'd ask if you're okay, but given your close relationship with the floor I'm sure you're fine." He sniggered at that, blatantly ignoring the death glare I shot him.

"Seriously bowled over with the paternal concern, but yes, I am fine." Apart from the need to sit on a soft cushion for the next few days - Cullen was _so_ getting payback for that little stunt. Asshole. "So is the parental lecture concluded, or do I have to wait through another round of 'how-to-be-a-responsible-adult' before I get to escape to my room?"

Charlie huffed, leaning against the porch railing and shaking his head. "No, Bella, I'm done. I really don't want to know the specifics but I've seen enough over the years to be pretty sure that Edward provoked you. I know it's wrong to call any child a little shit, but it was clear by the time that he was eight he'd already earned that title."

I snickered at that, but was too scared of breaking the scary spell of Charlie-oriented benevolence to interrupt.

"So, I'll give the standard punishment: a week without TV and curfews before nine." I nodded, a little relieved because he knew I hated TV and hadn't made enough contacts in this town yet for the curfew to be a real burden. "But I would appreciate it if you at least attempted to get along with Edward."

I froze. "What! No, NO WAY! He is a total tool and if it wasn't for him we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now!"

"Bella, I'll admit that he was an ass to you growing up but as I recall you definitely held your own. Apart from the infamous gum-in-hair incident, Esme told me about you switching his shampoo with peroxide and the time when you cut the break line on his bike."

I tried to look serious, but failed. Totally. After all, it was freaking hilarious when Edward took out his new BMX with his smug smirk and shot straight into a tree when the breaks didn't respond. Serves him for teasing me about still having to use stabilisers - HA!

My attempt at looking serious collapsed utterly when my gaze met Charlie's and I saw his poorly restrained laughter threatening to burst out. We both leaned against the the nearest stable surface, sniggering unashamedly, before righting ourselves. Charlie then huffed and tried to regain his look of stern parental figure, but even he knew most of the punch had dissolved by now.

"Yes, well," Charlie pontificated, smoothing out the creases in his uniform. "Just do the detention tomorrow and please _try_ not to antagonise Edward, okay?"

I flared. "I don't antagonise him! He's the one that starts it -" I cut myself off abruptly, realising that my mature stand was going to be damaged beyond repair by the 'he started it' argument.

Instead I clenched my fists and offered Charlie a demure smile, which unfortunately came across as a grimace. Regardless he just rolled his eyes and motioned inside the house and handed me the phone and a take-out menu, indicating that pizza was just a dial tone away if I was hungry.

I watched him go with a fond smile. I would be the first to admit that Charlie wasn't the picture perfect father, but he definitely had his moments. And right now one of my top ten favourite things about him was the fact that once obligatory punishment-conversations were out of the way, he didn't hover.

Still smiling, I reached for the phone and called for a pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese. As I headed upstairs the distant sounds of ESPN followed me.

**~ * ~**

**A/N Please review - it only takes a second and makes me write faster! Next chapter's all ready half-written so give me some motivation :)**

**So what's your favourite hangover remedy?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight universe, I'm just playing in her sandbox.**

**You want a life more sparkly? Then review. Karma is listening.**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_"Yes, well," Charlie pontificated, smoothing out the creases in his uniform. "Just do the detention tomorrow and please try not to antagonise Edward, okay?"_

_I flared. "I don't antagonise him! He's the one that starts it -" I cut myself off abruptly, realising that my mature stand was going to be damaged beyond repair by the 'he started it' argument._

_Instead I clenched my fists and offered Charlie a demure smile, which unfortunately came across as a grimace. Regardless he just rolled his eyes and motioned inside the house and handed me the phone and a take-out menu, indicating that pizza was just a dial tone away if I was hungry._

_I watched him go with a fond smile. I would be the first to admit that Charlie wasn't the picture perfect father, but he definitely had his moments. Still smiling, I reached for the phone and called for a pepperoni and mushroom with extra cheese. As I headed upstairs the distant sounds of ESPN followed me._

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

Gentle birdsong, soft and undulating. A subtle, melodic welcome to the morning with the gentle cadence of harmonic -

"EDWARD!! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED OR WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!!"

I growled and buried my head deeper under the pillow, trying to ward off the inevitable hearing damage that came from sharing a house - and car - with the Evil Pixie Witch of the Northwest.

Fuck, I missed my Volvo... Three more days - well, provided that mom or the step-asshole don't hear about detention with Swan tonight. I'm going lojack those goddamn keys the next time Carlisle confiscates them, then his newest secret hiding place will be as useless as the rest. I wonder if that's where he's keeping the pills now? The safe in his office has been empty for weeks.

"EDWARD! I'M NOT HEARING ANY MOVEMENT IN THERE!"

"Fuck's sake," I groaned, rolling over to the edge of the bed and picking up one of my Doc Martin boots and slamming it loudly and repeatedly against the floor. "Do you hear that, you dumb bitch," I muttered viciously.

"STOP HITTING THE FLOOR AND GET YOUR LAZY BUTT IN THE SHOWER BEFORE I LEAVE WITHOUT YOU!"

_Hah, joke's on you, pixie,_ I thought, rolling back into bed and cocooning myself in the sheets. I smiled to myself, willing her to leave without me. Automatic mental health day and I could blame it on _her_.

"IF YOU MISS SCHOOL THEY'LL CALL CARLISLE AND THEN HE'LL FIND OUT ABOUT YOUR DETENT -"

_Fuck!_ I shot up out of bed in a James Bond-esqe roll and ran over to the door, pulling it open and slamming my hand over her mouth before she could yell the word that would be the death-knell of my Volvo. Hell, Carlisle was probably vindictive enough to donate it to Swan so she could drive it to school and rag the clutch raw therefore completing her nefarious plan to rub it in my face every day...

"Don't say the D-word," I hissed at Alice. "You know mom has the hearing of a bat."

Alice rolled her eyes and made a muffled sound of protest, telling me it was time to move my hand from her face. I smirked and tightened my hold. Her eyes narrowed and then I felt a line of slimy wetness against my palm.

"Ewww!" I shouted her name and whipped my hand away from her, appalled, wiping it against my boxers. "Fucking hell, Alice, that is disgusting! Did you just _lick_ me?"

She sniggered. "Worked, didn't it? And don't think you got the raw end of the deal here - I don't even want to know what your palms have been in contact with. Now, go get in the shower because, quite frankly, you stink and I'll go and rinse my mouth out with bleach. Esme's making pancakes so hurry up before Emmett eats them all."

She skipped off down the hallway like a demonic ballerina, whistling as she went. _Whistling?_ Who the fuck _whistles_ at seven in the morning? Shaking my head I turned and slouched into my bathroom, ducking under the shower head in an attempt to wake myself up.

Fifteen minutes later I headed downstairs, following the buttery smell of pancakes and the slurping, gobbling sound which resembled Grendel's feeding time but was actually just my older brother enjoying morning fried goods.

I shot him a look of contempt as I approached the table, 'accidentally' pushing the bottle of syrup into his plate. Without even pausing between bites Em caught it with the blunt side of his knife and then, with a deft twist, set the bottle upright and continued eating fluidly. Damn, if breakfast-related reflexes was a Varsity sport Emmett would seriously kick ass.

My mom was sat at the head of the table in a soft green robe and her caramel hair spilled carelessly over her shoulders. She was nursing a mug of coffee while watching Emmett with an amused smile as he attacked a family-sized stack of pancakes. She looked up and smiled at me as I approached, murmuring a soft, "Good morning, Edward."

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, muttering a slightly more gruff, "Morning," before dropping down onto a chair. Despite my grumpiness I managed a smile at her, which she acknowledged with a pleased glimmer in her eye as she passed me a plate of blueberry pancakes. "Thanks, mom."

Esme was too good to put up with my usual bullshit, even if it was her fault for making me endure the horror was was Dr. Feelgood as a step-father.

"I'm setting up for the charity auction tonight, some of the heavier furniture first," Esme said, sipping her coffee. "Can you boys do me a favour and come with me to Port Angeles after school to do some heavy-lifting?"

Emmett grunted a muffled '_Yes_', but I froze and met Alice's wide eyes across the table. She registered my panic and silent plea for an excuse, and her gaze flickered over to her physics textbook on the table, then to the corner of her lab work that was poking out of her book bag.

"Sorry, mom, can't make it," I said, keeping my tone easy and not avoiding or holding her eyes for too long. Esme wasn't the walking lie detector that Carlisle was, but she definitely had a wicked radar. "I've got a lab project to finish off for physics tonight, but I'll be able to join you after."

Esme smiled and nodded. "That's fine, Edward. You know school work always comes first. What project are you working on?"

I took a huge bite of pancakes to disguise the pause, then glanced back over at Alice's book bag. She surreptitiously slipped the lab work out enough for me to see a rough sketch of a catapult and the project title.

_Thank you, Alice_.

"That build-a-catapult thing," I said nonchalantly. "You know, we have to use sticks and rubber bands, or some shi -" I stuttered, Esme's eyes darkening over my language, and corrected "- stuff."

Esme stared at me over her coffee mug as I finished my breakfast. She was a little suspicious, I noted as I ate. But no more than usual - for the last couple of years parental wariness had been a pretty safe stance, as past experience had taught them that chances were I was always up to something. Luckily for me, she let it go and didn't say a word as we finished up and rinsed our plates before dumping them into the dishwasher.

We shouted a chorus of '_byes!_' to Esme and piled into Alice's Porsche, Emmett and I performing the obligatory scuffle as we argued over who had called shotgun. Alice watched us, looking pissed as she leaned against the driver's door and tapped her stiletto in a staccato rhythm. Emmett eventually got me in a headlock and was pulling my ear like the little bitch he was when Alice yelled "_ENOUGH!_" and opened the back seat for me. I grudgingly climbed in and Alice started the engine.

I poked around in my bag for my pack of smokes and stuck the tip between my lips, patting my pockets for a lighter. I finally found on and lit the cigarette, unrolling the window and leaning back against the leather seats as the cherry-red ember glowed in the early-morning grey Forks drizzle.

_Ah, heavenly nicotine..._

"Hey!" Alice suddenly yelled. She turned around and reached back over her seat to snatch the cigarette from my lips, leaving one hand carelessly on the wheel and seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was seriously breaking the speed limit while not even facing the road. "No smoking in my car, jackass."

I groaned and muttered thinly veiled curses at Alice, running my hands compulsively through my hair, tugging handfuls of it until it looked even crazier than usual.

This was going to be a shitty-ass day.

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

The next day I stretched in bed and rolled over with a sleepy groan. It was only when my mind registered the sudden drop quickly followed by the hard thud as I tumbled off the bed and onto the floor that I remembered I wasn't on my comfy queen-sized mattress in Phoenix. Instead, I was in the poky single bed that I'd had since I was five in Forks.

Great.

My door opened a crack, and my dad stuck his head in. "You okay, Bells?" he asked, clearly having heard the bang as I fell out of bed. I just grunted that I was fine and waved a hand as if to say '_what else is new?_' Charlie's lips twitched but he managed to close the door and make it halfway down the stairs before I heard him sniggering at me.

I clambered to my feet, wincing as the pain from my fall yesterday was made worse my my early morning appointment with the floor. I limped into the bathroom and wriggled out of my sleep shorts, doing an acrobat twist in the bathroom mirror so I could see the bruise on my butt from where Cullen had tripped me.

_Fuck!_ No wonder that bitch was hurting - the upper part of my ass was purple and black across both cheeks, the type of bruise that I knew was only going to get worse before it got any better. I was going to _kill_ Cullen! I said a silent prayer of thanks for the fact that I didn't have gym today - the last thing I needed was the rumours sure to abound if the rest of the girls got an eyeful of that.

I grabbed a couple of strawberry pop tarts and jumped into my truck, scowling at the rain outside the window as I recalled the baking dry heat of Phoenix. The air was so damp here I felt as if I was going to start to rust. I'd only been out of the door for five minutes and my hair was ruined, a frizzed-up mass of curls destroyed by the half-gallon of rain in the air. Grumbling to myself I angled the mirror in the truck and scraped my hair into a messy bun atop my head before starting the engine.

My second day at school was pretty typical. Sure, the stares were still fairly intense, but considering I had '_new girl_' status on the one hand and '_busted Edward Cullen in the hallway_' on the other the attention was hardly unexpected.

I mooched mindlessly through my classes, shifting a little in the merciless plastic seats as the huge bruise on my butt made itself known...but otherwise it was indistinguishable from the standard American high school experience. I met a few more different guys and girls throughout the day, not even really attempting to remember their names yet as I knew I would almost definitely forget them. Oh well. I fielded the standard small talk but happily most of it was already covered Jessica Stanley's first-class gossiping skills.

I had English in the period before lunch and did an invisible fist pump when Mr. Masen excused me early once it became apparent that my understanding of _Dr. Faustus_ far exceeded his. I loved how dark Marlowe's work could get and we'd already covered this play back in Phoenix, so I just handed over one of my old assignments. As I existed the classroom to the library (also known as code for a quick smoke out of the back of the gym building) I praised my foresight in bringing my old essays to Forks with me.

I took a detour to drop my books off my by my locker, taking two attempts to get the combination right and chancing a sneaky look around to make sure no one saw my memory fail. I paused, my thoughts interrupted by a muffling banging sound and...was that _moaning?_ What was that?

I frowned, tilting my head slightly and closing my locker door with a quiet click. I looked down each end of the corridor but it was clearly abandoned and no one was in sight - yet I could still hear it. Frankly it sounded like the soundtrack to a low-budget eighties porno.

_What the fuck?_

"Oh yeah, oh that's right, uh huh, right there, baby. Oh yeah."

The voice was definitely female, low and throaty, but her intonation was beyond bored. Detached and disinterested, like she was reading from a script while making a sandwich. My voyeuristic curiosity piqued, I snuck down the hallway towards the supply closet door that was shaking slightly with rhythmic bangs.

"Oh fuck, Rosie baby, oh you feel so good." The voice was masculine and strangled, gasping and vaguely gross. Eww. The sheer edge of desperation in his tone made me bite my hand to suppress a giggle.

"Oh yeah, Royce, you make me feel great. Yup. Freaking fantastic. Oh baby. You rock my world. Oh yeah."

This time I nearly had to swallow my whole hand to stop the laughter. Could he not hear her? She had all the passion of a history recital.

"Oh Rosie I'm so close, so close, oh god, you feel so good, I'm - huh!? Is that...? _What the fuck?!?!_"

The banging abruptly stopped. He sounded pissed and frustrated. I craned my head towards the crack in the door to listen better, the curious perverted little fucker I am.

"What, Royce?" She sighed, exasperated. "Keep going, you're great. Seriously rocking my world right now, baby." Her tone was as flat as a goddamn pancake.

"Rose, are you serious about this shit?! You're _filing your fucking nails_ right now!"

"What? No I'm not."

_Ooh, she sounds defensive._

"Rosalie, I can see the goddamn nail file in your hand. And don't try and hide it down your bra - I'm not fucking retarded!"

I snorted to myself, questioning the veracity of the last statement, but pressed my ear against the door to hear more.

"Um...it's a...sex toy, Royce. Thought we could try something new."

"Yeah, whatever, Rose," he snapped. I could hear the jiggle of clothing and of zippers refastened. "That's why you have a bottle of nail polish in your other hand, huh?"

Any hint of softness in the girl's voice was now gone, replaced by a bitchy pissed tone that was full-on harpy territory. "Royce, what's your fucking problem? You get your end away and I sit by you at lunch and football practice, while I bat my eyes to show what a fucking stud you are. What more do you want from me, seriously?!"

"A bit of fucking attention!"

"Maybe if your dick had more impact than a tampon and you realised that my pussy is more than a freaking hand puppet, we'd get somewhere. As it is, just yourself finish off and I'll go break out the rabbit like usual, kay?"

Jesus. I made a genuine effort to swallow my arm this time but it was impossible - the laughter rolled out of me in a truly inelegant snort of hysteria that left me sliding down the hallway wall. I sat on the floor and shuck with laughter, wiping tears of mirth away as I heard the star-crossed lovers in the closet freeze.

Then...furious whispers... I briefly considered making a quick exit - but this shit was too funny to pass up.

"Oh, fuck. Who the hell is out there?"

"Well, Royce, let me just engage my psychic superpowers and find out. Hmm. Nope, guessing they're immune to my mind-reading abilities. Got your x-ray vision goggles with you today, genius?"

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch?"

"Why do _you_ have to be such a dickless wonder?"

"It's hardly my fault you're so goddamn frigid I'd get more pleasure out of sticking my cock in the ice cube tray -"

"_Frigid?!_" she shrieked. "I let you fuck me in a janitor's closet and you're seriously calling me frigid? You know what, Royce - go get better acquainted with your goddamn ice cube tray because I'd rather go mate with a monkey-man right now."

"Well, I'm sure you'd fit right in at the zoo. They probably have a spot in the vultures' enclosure picked right out for you."

I winced a little, knowing what was coming. _Three, two, one..._

"OWWW! What the fuck?!" His voice was markedly higher-pitched now. "You crazy bitch, I think you just kicked one of the boys off!"

"Major advantage of having an ice cube for a mistress, asshole. Go cuddle up with her and the swelling will go down."

The door burst open and a tall, statuesque blonde stalked out. This must be Rose. She was beautiful, with waist-length honey hair and huge dark jewel-blue eyes as well as a figure that wouldn't look out of place on the front of _Sports Illustrated_. I half-expected her to whip out a pair of Playboy bunny ears and to be followed out of the closet by Hugh Hefner.

But instead of Hugh the guy who limped out after her, clutching his balls in both hands and looking pained, was a pale cold-looking senior wearing a letterman jacket with '_King'_ displayed across the back below '_Captain_'. I idly wondered if his last name was King or if he was even more of a self-satisfied jerk than I'd realised. He was tall and built, with mid-brown hair and dark grey eyes; sure was attractive, pretty hot actually in a classic predictable all-American way. But there was something about the set of his shoulders and the mean light in his eye that repelled me.

Rose stood in front of me, arms crossed and hips jutted as she tapped a dangerously-high pointy-toed boot inches away from my right knee. I actually felt a twinge of sympathy for her companion when I thought of the impact that had to have made with his crotch. She arched a perfectly sculpted brow at me as she loomed over my still-sniggering figure on the hallway floor.

The guy - Royce - spoke first, glaring at me. The impact was reduced somewhat by the fact that he was still slightly hunched over, clutching himself and sounded like a pre-pubescent boy. "Who the fuck are you?"

The blonde rolled her eyes and cast him a disparaging look. "She's the Chief's daughter," she said, sounding a little bored again although her eyes looked interested. "Were you living under a rock yesterday? She's the reason you had to put up with Newt in Cullen's spot on the team last night."

Royce just grunted and glowered at the pair of us. The girl met this with cool eyes, clearly unimpressed; I noted then that she'd angled her body slightly to be in line with mine to form a shaky alliance, isolating his figure from us as we both stared silently at him.

He broke the eye-hold after a moment, giving me a burst of childish glee that I'd won the staring competition, then waved his finger in our direction. "Not a motherfucking word about this to anyone," he barked me, but his eyes flickered to Rose too. "Or I'll _end_ you, new girl."

He turned and tried to stalk away down the corridor, but was clearly still in pain and so it was more of a hunchbacked caper as he limped out of sight.

He disappeared and I glanced up at Rose at the same moment she turned to look at me. Both our lips twitched, then we both burst out into giggles. She leaned against the wall and slid down to sit beside me, both of us laughing like crazy people.

"What a prick," Rose sniggered. "Does he think he's in the fucking mob? '_I'll _end_ you, new girl_'," she imitated in an absurd low-pitched growl that was supposed to imitate Royce. I laughed even harder because the feminine hint in the tone matched Royce's voice eerily well after Rose had kicked his balls up into his stomach.

"Did he seriously not notice you were giving yourself a manicure?" I asked, still giggling. Quite frankly, I was fascinated by the dynamics - it certainly brought multi-tasking to a whole new level. Regardless it was an interesting variation on lying back and planning a casserole, I guess.

She snorted and nodded, reaching into her bra and producing a nail file and a bottle of red polish. I laughed again and tugged her hand towards me, examining her nails. "Not bad, you managed to get nearly a full hand done. That one's a bit smudged though."

She eyed her nail with a critical eye. "I know. I'll have to start that hand again." Rose gave me a grin then; it lit her face up and made her even more beautiful, but there was something a little dangerous and scary about it. I imagined it was the exact smile that ants saw when they looked up to find a praying mantis eyeing them with dark intrigue. "I'm Rosalie Hale, by the way. You're Isabella, right?"

I nodded, handing her the bottle of polish back. "Bella."

She inclined her head. "Rose." She glanced down the corridor, checking it was still clear, then pulled a silver flash out of her jacket pocket and took a deep swig before passing it to me. "Want some bourbon?"

I grinned back at her and took a gulp, coughing a little at the burn. The flask was silver with a stylised rose engraved into the metal. I looked at the end of the corridor that Royce had disappeared around, wondering at the story here. True, the guy was good-looking and ripped, apparently the captain of the football team...but Rose was a freaking supermodel. Was Forks seriously that dry that this asshole was the best she could do?

As if she could hear my thoughts Rose answered them wryly. "Yeah, that asshole is my boyfriend. Royce King." She said his tone like she was picking slime from a plug hole.

I looked puzzled. "But..."

"Why am I with him?" she predicted, looking a little weary. She took another swig of the flask, grimacing slightly at the harsh taste. She shrugged, saying, "Why not? This place is a shit hole. He's the captain of the football team, his dad owns the bank here and his mom is on all the same boards as my mom. And he drives a Cadillac." She shrugged wryly. "The stereotype is predictable, but it's also comforting. Besides, I'm not going to be here forever. But for now..."

She looked a little sheepish and turned away, either unwilling or unable to explain any further. I decided not to push the issue and scrambled to my feet before twisting back to face her and offering a hand. Rose stared at me, arching a quizzical brow. I just rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet. She looked surprised but a little pleased; I'm guessing most people took her ice queen routine at first sight and automatically backed off or played the sycophant. I think she was enjoying the change.

"So where are we going?"

"For a smoke," I said, carefully gauging her reaction. From her quick grin I knew she was up for it too. "Then lunch - I figure we have time to hit the diner and get back before next period, and I'm not sure my stomach can take eating in that cesspit of a cafeteria for two days in a row."

Rose grinned, falling into step beside me and slipping her arm easily into mine. "Amen, sister," she smirked, exaggerating the Southern accent I'd heard hints of around her tone. "I'm dying for a slice of peach pie."

**~ * ~**

**A/N Please review - it only takes a second and makes me write faster! If updates seem slow it's because I'm writing three stories at the moment (please check them out on my profile) and try to write them in order.**

**So what do you guys think of Rosalie and Royce? Also curious about your opinions on Edward and Bella so far. Please let me know!!!!!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight universe, I'm just playing in her sandbox.**

**So - I have the best reviewers ever! The response to the last chapter was so great, really pleased that people really seemed to like Rose's closet scene.**

**Usual instructions apply - REVIEW MY PRETTIES, REVIEW!!**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_Rose stared at me, arching a quizzical brow. I just rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet. She looked surprised but a little pleased; I'm guessing most people took her ice queen routine at first sight and automatically backed off or played the sycophant. I think she was enjoying the change._

_"So where are we going?"_

_"For a smoke," I said, carefully gauging her reaction. From her quick grin I knew she was up for it too. "Then lunch - I figure we have time to hit the diner and get back before next period, and I'm not sure my stomach can take eating in that cesspit of a cafeteria for two days in a row."_

_Rose grinned, falling into step beside me and slipping her arm easily into mine. "Amen, sister," she smirked, exaggerating the Southern accent I'd heard hints of around her tone. "I'm dying for a slice of peach pie."_

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

It turned out that, once she chilled out a little, Rose was pretty fucking hilarious.

We skipped the rest of the period before lunch and locked ourselves into the cab of my truck and lit up. I flipped through my iPod and was pleased to see her smirk when the mellow sounds of Bob Marley drifted out of my speakers. We sat a chatted a little and I soon found that her dry wit matched my personal penchant for sarcasm and off-colour humour.

We were laughing so loud at Rosalie's descriptions of our peers and their past exploits I'd missed while I'd been in Phoenix that a lone freshman crossing the parking lot to the office kept shooting us curious, open-mouthed stares at our hyena-like giggles. I just laughed even more when Rose arched a brow and flipped him off, causing him to stumble and run to the doors like a scared little deer.

We ended up foregoing the trip to the diner - a combination of laziness and concern that Charlie would hear about his only daughter missing class to buy some peach pie. Regardless, we were both appeased when Rose had found my stash of M&Ms with the glee of a small child on Christmas morning, nearly making me snort lemonade through my nose. _Ouch_.

When we heard the bell ring for lunch in the distance I pulled the truck out of the school grounds and parked a few minutes away on the edge of the forest, safely away from the curious gazes of our classmates and teachers.

"What time is it?"

Rose glanced at her phone, then groaned at the display. "We still have a half hour." I arched a quizzical brow, and she rolled her eyes, flashing me the display that spelled _Royce King_. "Twelve missed calls from assface," she explained.

I snorted. "Interesting pet name you have there for your boy."

"Whatever, don't even talk to me about pet names. What the fuck is going on with you and Cullen?"

"Death match 2009?"

Rose laughed and scoffed a handful of M&Ms. "Are you guys screwing around or something?"

"No!" I yelled, blushing bright red. "Jesus, Rose! I haven't even seen the guy since I was a kid."

She looked amused. "You two were like, what, childhood nemesises, nemeses - whatever, stop laughing - or something?" She started laughing. "I did hear about the time he and Emmett tied pork chops to your legs and got his dog to chase you."

I paused, interest piqued; Rose had moved to Forks a few years after I left for Phoenix. "How do you know about the pork chops thing?" I asked curiously.

She froze and I was amazed to see a slight tinge of pink grow on her cheeks. I fought the urge to gawp at the sight of Rosalie Hale blushing, but the edge of vulnerability in her made me swallow my humour and let the topic go when she murmured a generic response about '_hearing it around_'.

I let it go and changed the subject. "So how long have you been with Royce?"

She shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable as she picked at the hemline of her skirt. "Forever, I guess. Or maybe it just feels like that."

"So no one else in Forks has ever caught your attention?"

She flushed lightly again, shooting me a dark glare. I got the unspoken message and dropped this line of questioning too, handing her a fresh packet of M&Ms.

"A few of us are heading to Port Angeles for a movie tonight," Rose said. "Want to join us?"

"I'd love to," I said honestly, "But I have a detention tonight." I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "So unfair - Cullen basically assaults me and bruises my butt, yet _I_ end up having to join the delinquent ranks."

"He is a little shit," Rose agreed, sparking a fresh cigarette and unwinding the window. "Yesterday was the first time I've ever seen him flustered. It was pretty goddamn entertaining to see him fluttering about after you were done with him." She smirked. "Did you know he got bumped from football practice for that stunt?"

"Seriously?" I laughed, imagining the man-sized tantrum that had probably erupted over that scenario. "Who took his spot?"

"Newt."

"Who?"

"Mike Newton, overly-gelled blond spikes, pasty pallor. Kind of smells like turnips -"

"Oh, I know who you mean! He tried to grab my ass in the lunch line yesterday then claimed he had Tourette's and it was an involuntary tick. Total asshole."

"Yep, that's the guy. Anyway, there's no way he'll steal Cullen's position this season. I mean, Edward is a walking bundle of daddy issues and douchebaggery but he's the only thing getting us to nationals this year. Coach Clapp would saw off his own nuts before he cut him from the team." Rose smirked then. "But he still enjoys seeing him sweat."

_Don't we all_...

"He could win the freaking world series and he'd still be the little prick who landed me on the principal's radar on my first day."

Rose shrugged. "Then get the fucker back," she said, as if it were so simple.

"Yeah, right. I'd love to, but I can't afford any more black marks on my record - Charlie's been threatening to send me to military school. I mean, I love Doc Martins but I don't really want to wear them twenty-four-seven while being bossed around by psycho army rejects with overgrown arm hair, you know?"

"Fair enough," Rose shrugged. "Still..." She smirked and shot me a mysterious look. "There are ways and means. The secret for success is simple: just don't get caught."

I eyed her curiously. "You just chatting shit, Hale, or do you actually have a plan?"

She laughed. "Hell, I have more than a plan. I have motherfucking inspiration, Swan."

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

"Edward!"

I turned at Alice's voice to see her clattering in her high heels down the hallway towards me, dragging a silver Gucci purse nearly as big as she was. I stopped, snapping, "What?"

She folded her arms. "Still as pleasant as ever I see. You heading to lunch?"

I shook my head. I had no wish to attend the daily circus in the cafeteria today, but instead was planning to take Jessica or Lauren out to the parking lot to relieve some tension. And maybe steal their lunch - especially if it was Stanley's, her mom made the best fucking sandwiches.

Alice looked disapproving. "It's bad enough to treat those girls like your own personal harem, but to steal their lunches too? That's just low, Edward."

I just smirked. Fucking psychic always knew what I was planning, but my plan was hardly original anyway. Whatever. "I don't make anyone do anything they don't want to do. And it's all fair in love, war and Mrs. Stanley's PB&J sandwiches."

Alice rolled her eyes and held out her cell phone. I looked confused, and she huffed at me like I should be able to read her goddamn mind. "You need to call Carlisle," she said, her face a little too neutral. "He said he's tried to call you three times already."

I pulled my iPhone and scowled at the blank screen. "Dead battery," I muttered. "Did step-dickhead say what he wanted?"

"Nope," she said, rooting through her bag. "He sounded kind of weird though."

"Weird how?" I asked suspiciously. "Did you say anything to him about the detention?"

She scoffed and grinned at me. "Yeah, right, like I'd lose my leverage over you. It's much more enjoyable to watch you squirm." She slapped her pink phone into my hand, making me wince at the colour and hide it quickly. "Just call him. And don't scratch my phone!"

I grunted and headed out to the parking lot for privacy. I had a bad feeling about this; Carlisle never called us at school. I ducked under the roof's overhang to avoid the constant drizzle of rainfall and dialled his office number, scowling at the sparkly pink phone cover. _Fucking Alice..._

I nestled the phone against my shoulder and lit a cigarette as the phone rang. I heard an absurdly loud roar and looked up, scowling, to see Bella's monstrosity of a truck pull out of the school gates. I frowned at the retreating fender, almost certain that Rosalie Hale - Ice Queen and Bitch-In-Charge Extraordinaire - sat in the passenger seat. What the fuck was Swan doing with her? I felt unsettled; nothing good could come of two uniting their oestrogen-fuelled powers of evil.

"Dr. Cullen's office."

"This is Edward," I said tersely. "I'm returning Dr. Cullen's call."

"Oh, his son?"

"No!" I snapped. "Step-son. I am his step-son. As in, not related, at all."

"Ooookay," the secretary said, sounding a little confused. "I'll just put you through."

The phone rung once more then Carlisle came on the line. "Edward?"

I clenched my jaw.

_Be civil, be civil_. _This motherfucker is holding the keys to the holy grail of personal transport hostage..._

"Who else is it going to be, dickhead - you have a bunch of other young boys calling you up at work to ask for their step-daddy?" I heard his hiss of breath and I bit my tongue, hurriedly trying to deflect him. "So, Alice said you called?"

He harrumphed, but let it go. He sounded pissed off though as he said, "I don't have time for your self-indulgent nonsense. Why were you ignoring my calls?"

I rolled my eyes; arrogant prick assumed he was the centre of the goddamn universe. "I just forgot to charge my stupid phone. Now what the fuck do you want? I'm at school, need to concentrate on the learning environment and all that shit."

"I believe it was precisely that type of language and attitude that led to my confiscating your Volvo keys," Carlisle snapped. "I'm tired of having this same conversation with you, Edward. Respect is a two-way street and the treatment you receive is a direct result of the way you treat your mother and me."

_Did he really just play the two-way street card? Fucking asshole..._ _No, think of the Volvo - think of the Volvo!! _"Fine," I replied, my mouth tight. "Now, what do you want?"

There was a pause, then Carlisle spoke. "It's been three days since I've since you so I just wanted to check in."

_Check in? What the fuck?_

"You never check in. You just dictate and take my car away whenever I don't meet your kiss-ass quota."

He coughed. "I just wanted to see if anything was new. You've just started senior year, this is an important time in your academic career, Edward. Parental support and communication is more important now than ever so Esme and me need to be kept abreast of any new developments."

I rolled my eyes and inhaled deeply on my cigarette. "Sounds inspiring," I muttered sarcastically.

"Are you smoking on school property, Edward?"

_Shit_. "No."

"Considering your experience you're a poor liar," Carlisle said disapprovingly.

I didn't answer, just took another drag and brew the smoke directly into the handset.

Carlisle sighed angrily. "The agreement was that you would get the Volvo back in two days, Edward. That still stands, unless you have something to add."

_Did he know? Impossible. Alice wouldn't lie about something like this_.

"Nothing springs to mind," I said innocently.

There was a long silence, then Carlisle exhaled harshly. "You never learn, do you? I would have more success training an inbred dog than I do with you. The Volvo's gone for another week and if you do one more thing I'll have it crushed and make you watch."

"What the fuck? Where the hell do you get off being -"

"Shut up, Edward. I know about the detention. I know everything, because surprisingly enough the school have my office number as well as our home one. I spoke with the principal and Chief Swan today to work out a suitable punishment assignment in detention tonight." He sounded slightly amused as he added, "I think you'll find this one interesting."

"What did you do?" I asked carefully, fighting not to lose my temper and make it worse.

He laughed without humour. "You'll find out. I also have an additional punishment for you that we'll discuss in more detail when you get home."

"Can't fucking wait," I said through gritted teeth.

"I bet," Carlisle griped, then added with menace, "I'll see you tonight."

The soft click told me Dr. Dick had hung up before I had the chance to retaliate - he knew how infuriated I got at losing out on the last word in an argument. I briefly contemplated ringing him back just to yell an obscenity down the phone line before I figured that he'd be waiting with a smirk for me to do just that. Asshole.

I threw Alice's ridiculous pink phone into my pocket and lit another cigarette, leaning back and smoking harshly as I watched silver needles of rain pound into the tarmac of the car park. I fumed and strategised, trying to figure out what Carlisle had planned.

I was less worried about the detention tonight than the other 'additional punishment' he mentioned; he was one inventive fucker when it came to doing things that got under my skin and I had no doubt this would be one of his finer moments.

The shrill ring of the bell tore me from my brooding, shocking me as I realised that not only had I missed the whole of lunch but I'd also gone through half a pack of smokes and not even seen Jessica or Lauren. Dammit, I really wanted that fucking peanut butter sandwich...not to mention their other talents.

I threw my cigarette down, hearing the soft hiss as it extinguished in the rain, then stalked down the hallway toward AP Biology. I turned the corner just as the tardy bell sounded, tossing my bag to the empty desk in the corner where I always sat. Thank fuck I didn't have a lab partner because right now I -

_No motherfucking way that fucking bitch why does life fucking hate me and want me to suffer _-

"Mr. Cullen, nice of you to join us," Mr. Banner said snidely, motioning to my desk. That was currently occupied by Satan's handmaiden. "Take a seat." I opened my mouth to object and his gaze turned flinty as he growled, "Now."

Moving with heavy reluctance I trudged towards my desk, meeting the interloper glare for glare as I slipped into my seat and tried to ignore the thick heady fragrance of summer berries and fucking flowers. Devil scent.

Bella just glared back at me and gripped her pencil like she was considering stabbing it into my eye.

Great.

Swan snapped away from our glaring competition with a sneer before putting her hand up in the air like a little teacher's pet. "Mr. Banner? I can't sit here."

The biology teacher frowned at Bella above his glasses. "Why not, Miss Swan?"

"I have bad eye sight, I need to be nearer the front of the class."

I snorted loudly at the blatant lie and Bella's perfect schoolgirl facade cracked enough for her to shoot me a death glare. Mr. Banner caught this and his lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.

"Seating assignments are final, Miss Swan. You have been assigned to be lab partners with Mr. Cullen because you both have the highest ranking GPA and I see no reason to alter that because of any...personal problems between you." Mr. Banner then looked less amused as he glared meaningfully at me. "And I'm sure Mr. Cullen will behave himself this semester and demonstrate that he has grown-up in maturity since you last lived in Forks."

As soon as Banner returned to his lecture I leaned towards Bella, deliberately invading her personal space, and smirked at her. "If you want a private demonstration on just how much I've grown-up, Swan, all you have to do is say 'please'," I whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

The predictable flash of anger sparked instantly. "You're such a fucking pervert, Cullen," she hissed back furiously.

"You love it, Swan. You probably begged Banner to sit next to me."

She snorted disparagingly. "Hate to break it to you, but I'd rather be sitting next to a rabid pit bull with intestinal problems."

"You say such sweet things."

"Bite me, Cullen!"

"I'd love to," I grinned, catching her eye and twisting the end of one of her long mahogany curls around my fingertip. For a brief instant her uber-bitch armour cracked and I could see her pupils dilate and her breath catch slightly.

Interesting. I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing a touchdown dance in the aisle right then and there. Apparently Bella Swan was not as immune to me as she was pretending to be.

"Pay attention, Mr. Cullen!" Banner snapped at me. "The answer to question four, please?"

I smirked and leaned back in my chair, resting an easy elbow on the table. "The Krebbs Cycle," I said smugly.

"Wrong," Banner said with a sly smile. "That is indeed the most obvious answer and a common error which our more mediocre students fall for, but it is however incorrect. The answer, Ms. Weber?"

I glowered across the classroom, furious. The first goddamn answer I'd got wrong for two years and it was because of Swan's rohypnol-like scent. I glanced over at her, my jaw tightening as I saw the amused smile barely suppressed on her lips.

The class continued but I barely heard a word said. I couldn't stop casting side-glances at Bella; I seriously couldn't help that shit. It was like being told not to think about a pink elephant - all you can do is stare of the bitchy psycho girl with huge eyes and a decent rack and that little curve in her nose and -

_Gah!_ I clenched my fists into nail-digging fists and forced my eyes back to the desk. Something had to give. I needed a fucking distraction.

It was just then that Bella moved about on her seat for the seven hundredth time this class, wincing a little as if there was a splinter in the hard stools we were perched on. I watched her curiously as she shifted again, sitting oddly on the seat.

I yanked a sheet of paper and wrote a line of text on it before I pushed it over to Swan's side of the lab table.

_**Why are shifting about like someone lit a bonfire under your ass?**__**E.**_

She read the page surreptitiously, frowning at its content. She scrawled her chicken scratch writing below mine below pushing it back to me with a little excessive force.

_**You should know - it's the bruises, they hurt like a bitch. All your fucking fault I'd like to add**_**. **_**~ B**_**.**

I smirked to myself, realising the thud when she fell on her ass yesterday was the reason why she was behaving like her seat was studded with razorblades. I felt a momentary pang of guilt over pushing her, but watching her scowl and shift about was too fucking entertaining.

I smirked as I wrote back to her on the same piece of paper, deciding to piss her off a little more. That blush always appeared when she was angry. It made me wonder how far down she turned red...

_**Yeah, well, don't hold me responsible for the bruises, Swan. If you didn't like it so rough then I wouldn't have spanked you so hard**_**. **_**Who knew Chief Swan's little angel liked it so rough on the ass? ~ E.**_

She reached for the paper, a line appearing before her brow as she read it. I could read the emotions passing over her face as clearly as if she spelt it out for me - outrage, embarrassment, humour and barely contained laughter. She found it funny. I felt a silly sense of pride at that, but it was overshadowed by the obsessive desire to watch her biting into her plump lower lip.

_**You're so full of shit! ~ B.**_

_**I thought that's what you loved about me, Swan? ~ E.**_

_**Shut up. You're such an asshole. ~ B.**_

_**What is it with you and your obsession with my asshole? ~ E.**_

"MR. CULLEN!" Banner bellowed, shocking me so thoroughly that my pen tore through the page. I realised with surprise that I'd been so wrapped up in Swan that I hadn't even noticed him circling like a hawk. He pulled the note from under my hand with deft practice and flourished it before him, smoothing it out with a sly smile of anticipation. "I hate to sound cliche, but I do think peer participation is so important. Shall we read your note aloud?"

Bella went white; it was an interesting shade on her considering the usual pink that set up residence on her cheeks. "Please don't, sir." Her voice was so tight it was strangled, but this just made Banner more amused. Fucking sadist.

"Now, let's see," Mr. Banner began, settling his reading glasses onto his nose and skimming over our written exchange. "Mr. Cullen asks '_Why are shifting about like someone lit a bonfire under your ass?_' Interesting personal questions, Edward. '_You should know - it's the bruises, they hurt like a bitch. All your fucking fault I'd like to add._' Hmm, interesting twist here."

Bella went even paler and hid her head in her hands.

Mr Banner cleared his throat and continued."'_Yeah, well, don't hold me responsible for the bruises, Swan. If you didn't like it so rough then I wouldn't have spanked you so hard. Who knew Chief Swan's little angel liked it so rough on the ass?_' Well, now, this is certainly a novel turn on the usual insipid high school note passing. I'm sure Chief Swan would enjoy insight into this conversation."

I glanced around the classroom, seeing pretty much everyone watching us with their jaws hanging open and eyes so wide I nearly pulled out sunglasses to shield from the white-balling glare.

The asshole of a biology professor continued, not even bothering to hide his glee now."'_You're so full of shit! _' So eloquent, Ms. Swan. I can see how you earned your A in English. '_I thought that's what you loved about me, Swan?'_' '_Shut up. You're such an asshole._' Again, Ms. Swan, your vocabulary is very impressive.'_What is it with you and your obsession with my asshole?_' Well, now there I think I will cease as this conversation has become too...personal for class dissection."

Banner shot me a pointed look and I smirked back, knowing he was implying there was juicier material to come that he'd edited because he was such a responsible fucking role model. He failed to realise that this stunt might embarrass Bella, but I found this shit hilarious.

Bella, meanwhile, looked like someone had run her favourite pet over with a Mack truck.

I leaned over and tugged on a lock of her hair, speaking to her in a stage whisper that I knew would carry to every single pair of ears in the classroom. "It's okay, Swan. Don't be ashamed - you should embrace your alternate lifestyle."

The glare she shot me back could have fueled a dozen nuclear power stations but were shock was too much for her even to process words. I could hear a low mumble of incoherent threats and she gripped her pencil hard enough to snap it in half, but settled back in my seat and grinned.

By the end of the day the entire school would be convinced Bella has her own personal dungeon of pain under Chief Swan's house and had an annual subscription to floggers-R-us.

Perfect.

**~ * ~**

**A/N Hope this one wasn't a let down after last chapter. For those of you reading my other two fics I'm sorry for the update fail, but been enjoying writing this one too much :D**

**Detention next chapter. It's already mostly-written, so extra reviews make me more likely to post it sooner rather than later (even though I start my new job on Monday) so show me some love!!**

**Review and I promise I'll write soon!**


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